Protectors' Interests
by RabidOrochimaruOtaku
Summary: What if Finch had a niece? What if there were a second protector alongside Reese? What if Reese had a girlfriend? Meet the next Person of Interest, the one who fits all 3 categories. Chessie's not your average female version of Aladdin, that much these two are for sure. "100 Themes" prompt. PLEASE READ CH. 18 IF YOU'RE NOT HAPPY WITH THIS FANFIC @ CH 5! ON HIATUS!
1. The Disturbing Number

Okay, I apologize for not putting up the disclaimer when I redid this chapter. Therefore, I'm fixing it and now telling you that I do not own Person of Interest, nor any characters in here except my OC's. There will be a couple new ones, but it'll mostly be Chessie and her family or aquaintances.

Thank you to my reviewers, and especially to msgemgem for helping me to improve my fanfic! Yes, your words hurt at first, but after I went back to look at it, I realized that you were totally right and I needed to do some serious revising, more on some chapters than on others.

Thank you again everyone, and I hope that you enjoy this new revised version, and also that it makes a little more sense.

* * *

**25: Trouble Lurking**

Harold Finch stared at the number and profile information on the screen before him in astounded shock and silence. John Reese was elsewhere in the library awaiting more information, but he was a man who knew that Finch liked his privacy. Finch however was too shocked to move except to breathe and blink at the information in front of him.

Half-brother. He had a half-brother that he'd never even known about through his mother, she'd abandoned him when he was an infant because she couldn't care for him at the time.

"Mr. Reese," he called blankly, and John was soon walking towards him. "I-I can't…"

"You know him?" Reese asked, and Harold blinked shocked at him. "Who is he?"

"I-My mother's other son, she-she abandoned him," Finch said appalled and quietly, and Reese's normally emotionless mask was destroyed as his eyebrows shot up and his eyes lit up in astonishment. "I didn't even know he existed until just now, John…."

"I'll protect him and keep him out of trouble as best I can, Finch," Reese promised, "Can you dig up anything else? Any nieces and nephews of yours I need to be aware of?"

"One niece and two nephews," Finch read, "I'm pulling up their files now. Ages twenty-four, twenty-seven and twenty-eight, they ran away when she was fourteen for unknown reasons and haven't been seen or heard of since then, not even for taxes or jobs…"

"Good god," Reese said looking over Finch's shoulder, who turned slightly and glared until the ex-CIA stood up and backed off. "Sorry. Any ideas where the three kids are?"

"No, but my half-brother went missing a few months ago, about the time I hired you…" Finch said curiously, "He disappeared from the Military base at Quantico, Nevada, and went entirely AWOL with no signs of honorable discharge in his future."

"Well, that's most certainly an interesting case," Reese said narrowing his eyes. "Shall I get Carter and Fusco in on this?"

"To look for the children, yes, that would be wise," Finch said recalling something. "If they ran away, they were likely being abused, yes?"

"Either that or they wanted to join the Military, but I'm vouching for the former," Reese said swinging a gun over his shoulder and another into the holster on his right thigh. "Which one should I look for first?"

"I'm not sure, keep an eye open for all four, if you could, please, Mr. Reese," Finch said in a tone that John hadn't heard in a long time. "Perhaps another set of eyes and ears would be useful right about now in this case…"

"Hey, I'm not letting a partner on the team unless I'm for certain they can handle fighting me," Reese snapped, "I'm not having an untrained partner be my backup."

"That is for me to decide, thank you," Finch said shooting him a look that said to get going. "Now please do your job and let me do mine, Mr. Reese. I'd have told you if I needed to be told how to do my job when I hired you. I was actually referring to the detectives."

Reese picked up the four photographs with SSN's on the back and headed out of the Library. He couldn't help but stare at the picture of Finch's niece. Why the hell did she look so damn familiar to him?

POI

Detective Fusco looked at his phone to find the unknown number calling. Joy, he knew who _that _meant.

"Hello?" he said picking up his cell phone.

"Hello, Lionel," Reese said, "I need your – and Detective Carter's - help following a person or two while I have my hands full."

"And what would that have to do with anything?" he asked glancing up at Carter.

"I'll be sending you the two photographs of the ones we need followed shortly, Detective," Finch cut in, and Lionel scowled.

"Hello to you, too," he remarked, "How old?"

Within moments, he received the email, though, and he blinked in surprise.

"Okay, I'm on it," he said sensing a promotion if he found two or three of the ones missing.

"Thank you, Lionel," Reese said calmly, "I'm glad I can count on you for this."

"You're welcome, I'll see what I can do," he said just before hanging up. "Hey, Joss, we got a case of three missing kids. Siblings, been missing for about ten years. Rumored to have been seen in the city, but unsure as of yet. Want to come?"

"If it'll get me out of here, then yes," she hissed glancing at Mark Snow, whose eyes narrowed dangerously at her. "I'm going to help him on a case, what's wrong with that?"

"Get to your own case," Snow snapped. "I'll come and help."

"But Carter and I were specifically requested," Fusco protested, "Not that I have anything against the Feds."

"Watch where you step, chubby," Snow snarled dangerously.

From around the corner, a brunette glared at the CIA agent and murmured, "I think it's best that you watch where you step, Agent Snow, or I might have to poison you by degrees…"

* * *

Okay, so I hopefully cleared up a couple of quirks in this chapter and a few questions that arose because of it.

Anyways, please review! As you can see, I really do take the time to read them and work off of them. If you have a request, let me know, and I'll do what I can to work with it, while giving you credit of course.


	2. Sleuth Work

So, anyways, I still own nothing from Person of Interest, and I've now decided to put this up under the "100 Themes" prompt, since I already had some jacked-up ideas for the fic. You're going to see some really messed up chapters after I get past Chapter 50 - with no lemons, of course. I mean messed up as in why anyone would do that is beyond everyone else.

Anyways, I've got about... thirty-five more chapters written. But, I'm still going back through them and triple checking them since I don't have a Beta yet. Does anyone want to help me with that, please?

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**52: Deep in Thought**

"So, where do we start?" Carter asked with relief as they finally reached a location that the three youths had been sighted at or near.

"Well, we'll need information on the kids and their backgrounds, and then we'll hunt for anywhere they'd like to haunt from there," Fusco said calmly unaware that one of the three they were trying to follow was following them. "If we find one, we can get information from him or her to lead us to the other two."

The one following them slunk back into the shadows silently, ready to step in to prevent anything from happening.

POI

"I found a few more things out about the family," Finch said, and Reese's eyes narrowed as he drove to a local park. "As it turns out, they would all watch TV at the location their mother would work at after school and before she got off of work. They would walk there from the High School, which was about three blocks away. They lived in Arkansas until they disappeared, first in Conway and then in Fayetteville. She loved the library, while the others hated it. The boys loved to play video games, but would rarely include her in it, and when they did, she probably didn't get much enjoyment from it because of the way they worked."

"Anything about favorite foods?" he asked, and Finch blinked.

"She like Asian foods, and her brothers liked Mexican foods and home-cooked meals," he rattled, "She prefers to eat with chopsticks, and has even been known to eat ice cream and Jell-O with it just to prove to her brothers that she can."

"Spunky kid," Reese commented. "And the boys, do they have any crazy quirks?"

"Sam is an avid gamer, he's obsessed with the Legend of Zelda," Finch rattled, "Pictures and merchandise of it were all over his room still when he disappeared a few days before the other two. Joe is a different case, he is more into math and science, trying to explain how the world works and why things are the way they are in nature and microbiology."

"Sounds like he'd be good in one of your medical facilities, Finch," Reese joked, and he heard a slight frustrated growl from the billionaire. "I'm just saying."

"My half-brother is an interesting case, if not tragic and horrible," Finch said in a tone that Reese knew was not happy in any way at all. "He's tried to start many businesses, but they all fell through and he turned them over to his business partners just before they did. He filed for bankruptcy three times, moved around a few times because he couldn't afford the housing, and then he vanished three years after his children did."

"I almost pity him," Reese commented just as he spotted a teen shivering just beside the water fountain in a park. "Finch, I think I found one. I'm not sure, but I'll go check. I'll call you back."

Finch couldn't react as he felt his blood run cold. How on earth had Reese found one so fast? Was it pure luck, or did one of them actually _want _to be found?

Reese got out of the car and locked it as he went over to the fountain where two boys were beating up a brunette who was no taller than five feet. Her hair was chocolate brown, and she was deathly pale and thin, as though she hadn't had a decent meal in a very long time. in fact, he wasn't even sure if this was a male or a female, but it couldn't hurt to check and at least drive away the two that were definitely boys away.

"Hey!" Reese yelled, and three sets of eyes snapped up to him. "Stop that!"

"Run!" the largest one said, and he took off in one direction while the boy with the glasses ran off in another one.

The third figure however, slumped like a limp rag doll that had lost all will to live. As he approached, he realized that the clothes on the poor person were so baggy on them that their every bone was visible through them, which was not good at all. Their body posture screamed that they knew how to fight, but didn't dare fight someone who they knew to be stronger.

"Are you alright?" he asked kneeling down to the brown haired stranger's level.

The stranger looked up, eyes hollow and bereft of any joy, as though they expected another beating. John gently repeated his question and went to pick the stranger up off the ground. Just as he did, though, he heard a gunshot and felt a bullet miss his left ear by mere centimeters with the breeze made as it past reminding him of his days in the CIA. He wheeled around only to get slugged by the Person of Interest, and he felt stars go into his vision.

He lunged forwards with his stun gun, and the man rippled before collapsing onto the ground with his gun pointed at the brown haired stranger. Reese quickly picked the stranger up, startling them into becoming immobile, and quickly went back to his car and opened it with the remote.

"But the belt on," he said quickly as he placed the tiny and feather-light youth into the seat and closed the door, but not before putting on the child lock.

He wouldn't lose this person, not when the person of interest was planning to kill him or her. he quickly went around the front and entered his side, pulling on his belt. The brown haired youth was still shell-shocked, and he huffed before pulling out her belt and snapping it on the astonished youth. He quickly put the vehicle in drive and was off, but not before he heard a mass of cuss words coming from behind him to see Finch's half-brother yelling at him and trying to shoot.

"Well, that was interesting," he said as he evened out his breathing. "Are you alright? Do you have a name?"

"Ch-chessie," the youth murmured almost inaudibly, and he turned forwards with a smirk.

"Well, Chessie, I sincerely hope we don't run into your father again, yes?" he asked, and she looked up startled. "Yes, I can tell. The two who were beating you up – they're your brothers aren't they?"

She looked down and was silent for the whole rest of the way. As grateful as she was to her rescuer, she knew nothing about him except what he looked like, wore, and drove. Whereas he knew quite a bit about her by the looks of it, and probably was from child services, both facts she was extremely uncomfortable with.

"I'm an adult," she murmured.

"I know, Chessie. I'm not going to hurt you, I just want to talk to you about what your father and brothers did," he said firmly in his I'm-trying-not-to-scare-you-but-I-probably-will-anyways voice. "If you don't tell me what they do to you, I can't help you."

"F-fed?"

"No, I'm not from the FBI. I used to be CIA, but I quit," he said calmly, "I won't use their methods on you, I promise. Not unless I need to calm you down, and I promise I won't get violent if you won't. Deal?"

"Y-yes," she murmured. "D-deal. Wh-what do I call you, sir?"

John was silent for a bit as he contemplated deeply.

"I think sir will do just fine for now," he said at last. "I'm going to take you somewhere to get a doctor friend of mine to take a look at you. I don't like how I can see all your bones. That's not healthy."

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a dozen extra virtual cookies to anyone who can tell me the book reference I just made towards the end. You'll find a few references from literature or from movies, and a kudos and a lot of virtual cookies to those who can tell me what they're from.

Reviews are nice, and may just make me update faster! *winks twice*


	3. Doc's Orders

Okay, this is one of those chapters that I had to go back and do some serious tweaking, even if only subtly. Again, I do not own Person of Interest, nor any characters in here except my OC's.

Thank you again to my reviewers, and especially to msgemgem for helping me to improve my fanfic!

Thank you again everyone, including you silent readers, and I hope that you enjoy the revised chapter.

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**62: Magic**

As soon as he was sure that Dr. Megan Tillman was keeping Chessie very busy, Reese stepped into another room to call Harold.

"Finch, I found them," he said, and he heard a gasp.

"Are they alright?" he asked quickly, and Reese didn't want to be the bearer of bad news but had no choice.

"No, but let me finish explaining. Your half-brother is terrorizing his kids," Reese said quickly, "I got your niece out of there. She's terrified of anything and everything around her, like a trapped animal. I hate to use that metaphor, but it's the only one that can describe the look in her eyes and the way that she's carrying herself."

He heard silence but angered breathing from the other end from Finch, and he knew to be quiet so that the billionaire could at least somewhat compose himself even though he normally didn't lose control like this.

"How bad is it? How badly is she hurt aside from what you just told me?" he asked gravely.

"I'm not sure, Dr. Tillman's looking her over now," Reese said looking at the door the two females were behind, "Surprisingly, she's not putting up any kind of fight. I think they drilled submission into her, Finch, and possibly beat her whenever she was disobedient. She's-well, from what I saw, she's as dependant as a two year old right now."

"Call me back when Dr. Tillman is done. I'll see if I can hunt down my dear brother," Finch said angrily, and Reese knew that if it was up to Finch, his brother would rot in prison for what he'd done to the trio of young adults. "Also, I'd like for you to keep her there for a few days to let her recover, Mr. Reese, since you say that she seems to be as dependant as a toddler."

"Mr. Reese," Dr. Tillman called through the door, and he quickly reentered. "Good, you didn't leave, not that I think you would. Thanks for giving us the privacy; it allowed me to do a complete scan of her wounds and psychological examination."

"I'm assuming that it's bad," he ventured, and she nodded gravely.

"They've basically treated her like a combination of Harry Potter and Cinderella," she said sadly, "She's got the attitude of Cinderella, but when I asked about if they raped her or not, she… well, she clamped up and started glaring in front of her like she wanted to break something and have a nervous breakdown and cry her eyes out at the same time. She's obedient, she obeys without question silently, which from what I can see is not as willing as she would like for you to believe. I'm not sure about the best thing to do right now, to be honest, except to let her rest, recover, and to let her try to rediscover who she really is. Perhaps… artwork? That seems to help convey some emotions, or maybe some music or video games. She's probably got some stunted growth from the malnutrition, but that'll get fixed over the next few years since I'd gather she's about fifteen."

"Twenty-four," John corrected, and Dr. Tillman's eyes widened as her jaw dropped.

"You can't be serious!" she said, "That-there's no way she'll be able to get the growth spurt that she needed now! Oh, I hope the people who did this to her go to jail!"

"With what we've got planned, they will," he assured, "Soups and liquids for a while, soft foods after that, and then stay away from fast foods, right?"

"Yes, and I'd recommend letting her eat as much as she wants up until she's at a healthy weight again, but not too much too quickly or she'll get sick. High nutrition, of course, and also a round or two of antibiotics will do her some good, just in case she's gotten sick and doesn't know it yet," she said handing him a couple pill bottles. "I'm sure you know the routine."

"That I do. Thank you, Dr. Tillman," he said gratefully, "I believe we just saved her life."

"Yes, we did, and with what I've found – and meticulously documented, might I add – we'll be able to put her attacker behind bars," she said confidently holding her bag to her. "Also, about her psychological development…"

"How bad is it?"

"Well, it's awful, really, it's like she's not even human anymore. She's… scattered, I guess is the best way to put it. She was tortured psychologically, that much I can tell, but from what I can gather so far, it will take a long time for her emotions and reactions to stabilize. She's very distant in her emotion range, and her mood swings are split-second, as if she was tortured into having hair-trigger reactions by someone else. And… I hate to say this, but she's probably going to have a lot of boundary questioning, and also some serious permanent psychological damage. To be honest, her mood swings may never stabilize and she could have become bipolar, or some other psychological disorder…"

"Hair-trigger mood swings," John said huffing and running his fingers through his hair stressed. "Great, her uncle is going to kill me. That aside, when do you think her emotions will mellow out, if at all?"

"In all honesty, they probably won't fully. But her emotions may mellow out over the course of a few months, if given time with a loving home and family," Dr. Tillman reasoned. "I'm just going off of what I remember from college back when I was trying to decide whether I wanted to go into psychiatry or to be a surgeon."

"That's all we can ask for," John conceded. "Even if she doesn't fully mellow out, we can still work with mood swings and teach her to bottle up her emotions until she can let them out at us in a nonviolent wave."

"That's up to you," she said putting her hands up. "But if it was me, I'd give her a few months and then see her progress then. Please tell me that you're going to catch these monsters and make them pay."

"No, but she knew them well, so we'll catch them just as soon as we can," he said glancing over at Chessie, who'd begun shivering on the couch from fear as tears began forming in her eyes. "Thank you again."

"No, it's me who should be thanking you for talking some sense into me," she said with light in her eyes and warmth in them that he hadn't seen in a while. "She reminds me of my sister… and it breaks my heart to see cases like this, but it's all worth it when they're back to normal as much as they can be."

"Yes, yes it is," he said pulling his suit off and putting it over the young woman, who jerked her head to him fearfully as she flinched until he began to rub her gently on her opposite arm with his arm around her. "Nobody's going to hurt you here, Chessie, they can only get in if I let them in. I won't let them in if I don't trust them, and I won't even think about trusting them if they mean you any harm."

She said nothing but the fear fading somewhat from her eyes was enough for him to know that he'd gotten through to her. She was still terrified, but he'd saved her life, and they both knew that he wouldn't save her life only to kill her. they remained like this for the space of half an hour before Chessie finally let herself relax under her savior's watchful care. John then went over to the edge of the room and put his finger to his earpiece.

"Finch, she's calm now. Almost silent, but she's calmer than before," he said into his ear bud, and Chessie watched him fearfully. "She's got trust issues right now, but I don't think we'll have much of a problem from her. Can you send over some sketch pads and colored pencils for her to use? I think it will help her let out some of her pent up emotions. Also, she's going to have some emotional instability for a while, if not permanently because of what she's been through."

"Thank you for watching over her, Mr. Reese," Finch said solemnly, "How big of sketchpads, what kinds of colors? Should we get some video game systems? And what do you mean by trust and emotional issues?"

"Video games? Uh, I'm going to hold out on that one, we don't even know what kinds of games she's used to, if at all," he said eyeing Chessie, who was putting her arms in his suit and wrapping it around her tightly. "Also, we'll need some new sets of clothes for her. I'd ask her for her measurements, but I don't want to offend her and break her trust. I'll explain later."

"Clothes have tags," Finch pointed out.

"Of course," he said crossing the room and startling Chessie into putting up a fight by checking her shirt tag. She immediately started struggling against him until she felt the tug upwards on the back of her jeans, at which point she froze confused, but was ready to flee or fight in an instant's notice. "Medium T-Shirts, and… 32/30 pants, and I'd take a hazard on the jackets and coats."

She looked at him blank-eyed, not wanting to believe that he was actually spending money on her even though he didn't even know her.

"Anything else? What did Doctor Tillman say?" Finch asked.

"I'll explain later," Reese promised, looking at Chessie, who was slightly shivering again.

"I'll send it over as soon as I can," Finch promised, "Would you care to inform the Detectives that Chessie has been found and removed from harm?"

"Gladly," he smirked, "I'm sure Detective Carter will be somewhat relieved until she hears how dependant your niece is on us. I can't believe she survived for so long out on her own under those horrible conditions. It's almost like magic…"

* * *

Okay, I _started _to give some information, and hopefully by cutting out some of the conversations and tweaking some stuff it makes more sense. Again, anyone who went through ten years of hell would have some serious emotional and psychological issues, most especially just after being freed from said hell, so she'll be kind of unstable emotionally for a while. You'll see what I mean later if you keep reading, probably at about chapter 11 or so she'll start showing the more serious mood swings.

I'm still not sure about this chapter, though, so reviews for constructive critisism would be very much appreciated and taken with joy.


	4. 1st of 1000 Steps

**79. Starvation**

"They _what_?" Carter screamed into her phone at about three in the afternoon, and Lionel looked over at her confused. "Hold on."

"What?" he asked as she put it on speaker phone.

"Repeat that," she said and Reese huffed.

"They abused their own daughter and sister," he said frustrated. "Can I safely assume that Mark Snow heard that?"

"No, he didn't," she snapped, "Thank god. That bastard's driving me nuts."

"You're not the only one with it on speaker phone," Reese pointed out.

"I've got my work cut out for me. I've still got to find the man that was trying to shoot her, and the kid herself."

"I've got her in a safe house. An _undetectable _safe house, one that is completely new that even you won't be able to trace," Reese said smugly. "Now, should I find the assailant, or do you want to?"

"Leave him to us, what did he look like?" Carter asked, and Reese contemplated for a few seconds.

"It was her father, I recall that much, but they didn't look alike much," he said calmly, "I can send you a photo that I have. Or would you rather pull his image off of a security camera at Harold F. Jay Park, Detectives?"

"No, we've got that," Fusco said quickly, "What happened there?"

Reese summed it up in a nutshell and left out the part where he rescued her before she pulled on his sleeve and looked down in shame.

"I've got to go, duty calls," he said and Carter stopped him.

"Define duty," she snapped before he could hang up.

"What do you think, Detective Carter? I'm still looking for Chessie to make sure she's alright and alive," he said like it was obvious before hanging up. "Okay, Cheshire, what can I help you with?"

She looked down and shifted her weight from side to side slightly, silent and terrified of his reaction.

"I gotta go," she muttered.

"Go where?" he asked confused, and she flinched.

"You know – _go_."

"Ah, follow me," he smiled as he led her to the bathroom. "Take as long as you need, and feel free to use whatever water consuming object you want for as long as you want. I'll check up on you if you're not out in ten minutes and I don't hear running water, though."

She blinked before her eyes seemed to faintly shimmer ever so slightly with what he hoped was amusement or another positive emotion alongside hesitance and mistrust. She closed the bathroom behind her but didn't lock it, and he went into the kitchen and looked in the cabinets – nothing. He almost growled in frustration until he heard the shower be turned on.

He smiled, knowing that she was like him and would have wanted to clean up. It was by good luck that the clothes that Finch had ordered arrived just then, and so he quickly took them from those who were bringing them up and carried them to the couch. He looked at them all – mostly pink, but some purple in there. It was obvious that this was a new concept for Finch, even though he _was _trying, in his own awkward way. He peeked in on Chessie, who was completely ignoring the door and letting the hot water cascade down her back. Without a moment's hesitation he snatched her old clothes and quickly put the new ones on the counter before silently closing the door.

She walked out three hours later still soaking wet but confusedly and fearfully sporting the new clothes, which were still somewhat baggy on her even though Finch had ordered a size smaller in all the clothes as well just in case. She sniffed the air, and tiptoed to the kitchen to find Reese over the stove heating up some chicken noodle soup.

"I thought you'd be hungry since it's about dinner-time," he said calmly without looking back at her, knowing that eye contact would most likely scare her right now. "Here, take one pill every morning and evening, they're antibiotics, I don't want you getting sick."

Her heart clenched in the fact that someone was worried about her, and it felt to her as though her brothers and father had all ganged up on her and started stabbing her in the heart and were choking her ever so slightly. For some reason, a nasty little voice in her head argued that he was only doing this so he could poison her or worse, force her to do something that she didn't want. The astonished and fearful tears and look in her eyes, as the tightness in her throat and chest, was telling him everything that he needed to know about her current thought process, so he decided to take things a little slow. He poured the soup into a large bowl and set it out in front of her, only to astonish, scare, and confuse her more.

"But-but," she stammered, fearfully backing away.

"It's all yours. I've got takeout on the way. You're on a liquid diet to help restart your digestive system after all the garbage you were forced to eat for the past few years. Eat it slowly, please," he said as she shook her head at him with tears in her eyes, looking up at him in astonishment and even more confusion as he laid out a glass of milk. "I won't let you go to bed or do anything else until you finish at least half of what I've set out for you."

She was extremely reluctant and hesitant, having come to hate it when people watched her eat. She went for the milk first, and drank it greedily, not even heeding his warning to drink it slowly. The last thing that she wanted was her meals taken away like she had become so used to from when others would watch her eat. He rolled his eyes before jerking it from her hand. She slumped tears and distraught filling her every fiber and coming out through threatening tears and whimpers, and he knew he'd done just what her brothers and father must have done to her to starve her.

"Slowly," he repeated firmly, and then handed it back to her.

Her eyes and head slowly up in awe, and she hesitantly took it back from him and sipped it until the glass was bone dry, trying to figure out what he was doing and what he wanted. He'd had her take a few nutrient supplement pills with the milk, as well as the antibiotic. She then moved on to the soup, and began slowly eating it. She flinched as the first spoonful hit her mouth, and he began wondering if he'd set it out for her too soon.

"Is it too hot?" he asked, and she blinked fearfully before swallowing.

"Is this… warmth?" she asked confused and fearful at the new sensation in her mouth, and he felt a string tug in his chest as he realized that she'd gone without warm food for so long that she'd completely forgotten what it felt like.

"Yes, it's warmth," he said calmly, trying to size up how to best keep her from having a nervous breakdown at the dinner table, "Did it hurt your tongue?"

"N-no," she stammered, shocked, but still fearful and hesitant.

Reese knew that she was sizing him up, trying to figure him out. He had seen it all too often in the CIA and working alongside the FBI. Children whose parents had abused or neglected them would get confused at the slightest signs of being humane to them, and often would find that they had become attached to the person who was first kind to them. He scowled inwardly at the fact that she'd been beaten so far into submission that she was acting like a two year old.

He pondered, wondering just how he was going to break the news to Finch about his niece's behavior and mental and social conditions. Not to mention the obvious fact that before Chessie had been rescued, she had been suffering from starvation.


	5. Protector's Analysis

I still do not own Person of Interest, nor any characters in here except my OC's. This is yet another chapter that I had to go back and do some serious tweaking. This one was a little harder to tweak than the others, as I wanted her to keep having the emotional dependency that Chessie has on John, but I also kind of want her to become attached to Finch pretty soon. I'm still working on that last part, even in Chapter 9...

Thank you to my reviewers, and again especially to msgemgem!

Thank you again everyone, and I hope that you enjoy this new revised version of the chapter, and also that Chessie is a little more to your liking.

* * *

**99: Solitude**

It was two days later when Reese decided to take Chessie to meet Finch. He knew it was long past time for her to meet her uncle, even though it would probably do more harm than good to begin with. But he also knew that it would do her much more good in the long run since she needed to become attached to Finch as well.

"You like libraries, right?" Reese asked as Chessie was eating some mixed vegetable soup for lunch, and to his astonishment she began choking. "Hey, whoa!"

She rammed her fist on her chest after a few coughs, and stopped choking fairly soon after a few more desperate and harsher coughs. He was already behind her at the ready to perform the Heimlich maneuver to help as she finished ramming her chest, but he visibly relaxed as he saw that it was no longer needed.

"I-I love them! How did you know?" she asked, too surprised and eager to be surrounded by books to be afraid.

He blinked in astonishment. This was the most that she'd ever spoken at once ever since they'd met, and it had been over a library. She was _definitely _Finch's niece, he deduced.

"Lucky guess," he ventured warily, "I'm heading to a really private one your dad's half-brother owns. He wants to meet you, so I thought I'd take you over to his favorite hideaway."

She flinched in what he knew was fear, anxiety, and betrayal as though he had slapped her. John knew he needed to explain just a little further to calm her and to convince her to come.

"It's alright, he won't hurt you," Reese said gently putting his hand on the young woman's shoulder, causing her to jump slightly. "He already knows what your father and brothers did to you, and hurting or scaring you is the last thing he wants to do. Besides, he's harmless as a Finch."

The man in question had been eavesdropping on the duo and scowled at Reese's little pun.

"Promise?" she asked worriedly.

"I promise," Reese said putting his other hand on Chessie's other shoulder. "Besides that, he's my boss, and it was him who got you the clothes, not me. He's been taking care of us from behind the scenes for a while, but I'm going to let you in on a little secret."

He leaned in and she looked up at him confused and afraid.

"He has enough influence to put your dad and brothers in jail for the rest of their lives for what they've done to you," Reese whispered, and her eyes widened in disbelief. "But, he won't intervene like that unless you want him to. He doesn't want to scare you, but he does want to try to get to know his only niece a little better. I think you'll be surprised at some of the novels he's got at his library."

Chessie's eyes blanked over in shock and nervousness at Reese's words, and she was unable to believe what she was hearing. Her uncle had his own private library? He'd been watching over her the entire time that she'd been with her protector? But how would she be sure he wouldn't hurt her? what made her uncle any different from her father, or any other adult male that wasn't the one who had rescued her?

Finch was also confused at Reese's words, and he blinked in confusion. It was far too soon for her to be meeting him, but if Reese wanted the two to meet, then there wouldn't really be any choice about it. He would only rush the healing process like this if he needed to get back out on the field. That could only have meant that the other two children and the person of interest were all still out there, and this was not a good fact considering all the facts that had been brought to the surface.

He knew that there was no other method of getting Chessie food, but taking her out to eat would have been good if that hadn't been forbidden by Dr. Tillman. He contemplated – surely she wouldn't mind him taking her back to the penthouse if she got hungry, would she? He _did _have a microwave and some bowls here, so if she wanted to heat up some soups that would have been alright.

"Thank you for throwing me under the bus, Mr. Reese," he sighed. "Remind me to get you back for that."

He heard Reese chuckle on the other end before a loud protests from Chessie, half-yelling and half-sobbing at him that it wasn't funny. He could hear her close to tears and a nervous breakdown, and wondered what had happened.

"I'm really sorry, Chessie, but it's just-I've never met anyone who's as terrified as you are," he chuckled in slight amusement, "I've never met anyone who panicked because they mistook a raisin for a bug. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have laughed. We all have our fears, and I shouldn't have laughed at yours. Feel free to laugh at mine if you'd like."

"I don't even know what yours _is_," she pointed out, even closer to tears, her bottom lip quivering dangerously.

Reese was silent, trying to think of the one fear that would get her laughing the most.

"In all honesty, spiders," he said at last, "I've been scared of them since I was little."

She simply stared at him watery-eyed in disbelief, not wanting to listen to what he was saying. After a while of him keeping eye contact with her, and the tears started receding.

"You hate them, too?" she asked at last, and he blinked at her before smiling gently.

"Yes, but I trained myself to kill them on sight," he said gently, "Even though they do still give me the creeps. Thank god they hate living in places this high."

Her reaction was almost completely shrouded by her long hair, but John could faintly discern a slight salty smell in the room now. She ducked her head down and flinched, almost expecting a beating, and he gently put his hand on her head. Reese blinked as he realized he'd yet again mimicked her brothers, just for a completely different reason, and inwardly kicked himself.

"I'm not mad at you for being afraid," he said gently, and she wondered if he could read minds. "What's wrong?"

"They barely let me brush my teeth, I had to do it in the middle of the night all the time," she said trying not to cry even worse. "I had to use baking soda…"

"That was very brave and wise of you," he said firmly, "You'd have probably lost all your teeth by now if you hadn't, and that wouldn't be fun. Do any of your teeth hurt?"

"No, I don't think so," she said furrowing her brow fearfully.

"Here, let me see," he said gently putting his fingers on the sides of her cheek, and pushing in until her mouth was completely open.

To his complete astonishment, there wasn't a single cavity or even any signs of plague in her mouth, and her gums were perfectly healthy. He stared for a bit, unsure of how to react before removing his hands and letting her go.

"Well, you've done a remarkably good job at keeping yourself as healthy and fit as you possibly could with what you had," he said firmly, and she blinked up at him confused, not understanding that he was saying something good about him. "That was very, very cunning. You'd have made a good Police Officer or Detective."

She blinked at him before hugging him tightly around his torso, unable to have any other reaction at having been given so much praise from one person in so short a time. She felt a new sense of pride, one that she hadn't been able to feel since she was very young, one that she vaguely remembered as the rush of pride that came from praise from someone you cared about. She hadn't had praise like this, or any for that matter, since before she was a vagrant, and he was quickly able to sense this. He made a mental note to tell Finch about her reactions to praise; even the smallest ones seemed to set her on a confusion track until she finally realized you weren't trying to trick her, at which point she would trust you. Well, so long as he trusted you, anyways. He realized then just how long all three of them had lived in one form of solitude or another, right as he heard her singing something softly into his chest.

"Lead me, save me from my solitude. Say you want me with you here, beside you. Anywhere you go, let me go too…"

He wondered just what she was singing and how on earth she was able to read his mind, or if this was just something that she was doing to feel better and more comfortable.

* * *

Kudos to those who are getting my little tidbits and snippits of reading, movie, and music references, by the way. PM me if you can name one or more of the references please! I'd like a confirmation that at least _one _person out there is getting my hints... It's kind of lonely when nobody lets you know whether or not they like the quotes that they're seeing. I've done five so far, I think, and I'll try to do one in every chapter. If you guys want I can set up a forum or a chat inside a forum specifically for quotes in fanfics...

Anyways, please review and let me know what you think about the update!


	6. Safe Haven

I still don't own Person of Interest or any of its characters from the show. Chessie and her family (except Finch) are mine.

* * *

**82: Can You Hear Me?**

"Welcome back, Mr. Reese," Finch said looking up from the computer to find John and Chessie walking in. "Ah, then you're Chessie?"

"Y-yes, sir," she said timidly, hiding behind Reese with her hands in front of her in the classic timid Anime style that she'd copied from a very shy Tohru Honda*.

"It's so nice to finally meet you," Finch smiled gently as he stood up and limped in their direction, knowing that he needed to appear as harmless as possible if he wanted to help her heal from all of the abuse that his half-brother had given her.

"N-nice to meet you, too, sir," she said realizing why he wasn't a threat. "Are-are you my uncle he was talking about?"

"Yes," the two answered in unison, and she looked between the two.

"I should probably get back to trying to find your brothers," John said looking at Chessie, who looked up, blinked, and nodded silently before going over to Finch.

To both of the men's astonishment, she sized him up for mere moments before gently hugging him, which they knew meant that she had deemed him as a person who clearly wasn't a threat and held the possible position of father-figure that she would need. It was only a few seconds later that Finch gently put his hands on Chessie's back as he got Reese's mimed message to hug her back. Reese chuckled softly, and Chessie turned around before racing back and hugging him.

"Be careful," she murmured, afraid for the one who had rescued her.

"I always am," he assured, "And if not, your uncle knows how to look after us."

Harold shot him a glare before Chessie started looking around at the large library. She looked at Finch, who nodded and smiled gently as he gestured for her to read to her heart's content. She beamed and a light filled her eyes that Reese hadn't seen yet before dashing off down one of the rows.

"Here, plenty of soups," Reese said as he handed Finch the bag on his arm. "Good luck. Praise will confuse her at first, but she seems to open up some more to it."

"Emotional scars," Finch said, and Reese nodded. "Remind me to try to try to get Detective Carter to put the culprit in jail."

"I'll see what we can manage," he smiled softly as he left. "Don't let her go crazy – she seems to have taken an interest in romance novels. It's either that or the Japanese style of comics that the shows are based off of."

"I'll keep that in mind," Finch said calmly before turning back down the aisle. "Should I go get her?"

"Nah, she was more than happy to come once the word 'library' was out of my mouth," Reese chuckled slightly, "She acts more like you than anyone else I know. Only not with computers, such is a shame."

Finch shot him another glare before heading bag over to his desk. Reese went out the door then, sneaking out from under the radar. Chessie looked up as he left, and her eyes narrowed dangerously, as though she were sizing up an opponent. She stopped cold as she recalled where she was and who she was with, and knew that her uncle's security system would alert them to trouble.

She went deeper down the rows, sinking in deeper as she breathed the smell of the books in deeply through her nose. It had been since she was fourteen when she'd last gone inside a library to read instead of to get warm. But now, she had as much warmth as she could ever want, and a loving uncle who wouldn't hurt her like her father had. From what she'd seen of him, he didn't like guns, or rather, didn't like touching them. She knew that it was up to her to be the more mature of the two in that case scenario to use one.

But her rescuer was another story altogether. He was protective to the extreme, and probably willing to kill if it meant keeping the two of them, and their "person of Interest" safe. She pulled out a romance novel, and frowned before putting it back. it was a trashy ones that her parents would never have let her read, but then again… she was an adult, twenty-four, couldn't she do what she wanted now? Had she not had that legal power since she was eighteen? She realized something that would help get her father and brothers arrested.

She grabbed a piece of notebook paper, and saw that it had been left on the table with a note attached alongside a pile of sketchpads and colored pencils and pens.

_I thought you'd like something else to do if you didn't like any of the books. Uncle Harold_

She smiled and turned the note over and wrote only two words before signing it. She turned to the paper and quickly began writing every time that her father had pointed a gun at her or yelled or hit her for disobeying him. On the second piece of paper, she did the same for her eldest brother, and her second brother on the third piece of paper. She wasn't sure how long she was working, but she heard her uncle get up from his chair even from afar. Living in constant fear had heightened her senses and strengthened her body, so long as it had the proper nourishment.

"Chessie?" he called.

"Yes?" she said getting up and dashing to him. "Is something wrong?"

"No, I just wasn't expecting you to be so quiet," he said blinking in astonishment at how quickly she'd gotten to him. "You-how on earth did you come to run that fast?"

"My brothers," she admitted, "Typical ones who picked on me."

She didn't dare admit that she'd had to outrun a couple bullets from her father before on more than one occasion.

"They hit you, didn't they?" he asked gently, and she looked up at him and nodded gravely.

"Dad did, too," she said quietly, "They'd even use a stun gun on me when I'd try to fight back. So I learned to run in order to survive. I've been trying to write down all the times they hurt me so that we can use it in court if it ever comes to that."

"One way or another, John and I will make sure that they never hurt you again," Finch promised as he gently put a hand on her shoulder. "Even if it means having him train you to fight as well as him."

"Do you really think he'd allow that?" she asked appalled and widening her eyes.

She hadn't yet thought of using her upper-body strength for much, even though she'd hoisted herself and many a garbage can anywhere in her brothers' way that she could. She'd even hauled a brick at them not a week ago when they were coming at her with a knife, hitting him in the shoulder. She smiled, as that had been one of her very few victories against them until her father had pulled his gun out against her and she'd been forced to run.

"Yes, yes I do," Finch said calculating what she was thinking of. "You seem amused. What is it?"

"Just remembering a hollow victory against the boys," she smiled, "I threw a brick at Sam when he was coming towards me with a knife. The look on his face was priceless – till dad showed up."

Finch didn't question any further, honestly horrified at what his nephews and niece would to do each other.

"What in heaven did your father do to you?" he asked quietly.

"Forced us to obey him by using a gun as leverage," she snorted before slapping her hands over her mouth as she realized that she'd said that out loud.

Finch stared at her before blinking and scowling.

"Well, that most certainly changes everything," he pondered, "We were wrong. He isn't- Chessie, I think you've just saved your brothers' lives by admitting that. Thank you, little one. What your father did was very wrong, and what you lived through should happen to no man, woman, or child. Nobody deserves to be treated in such a manner."

"I can think of one person," she said calmly, "Two or three, actually, now that I think about it. I'll give you five guesses before I tell you."

"I'm assuming one of them is your father and another one is Satan," Finch said returning to his computer as Chessie raced back to the table so quickly she was a blur. "Mr. Reese? We've got a problem. My half-brother isn't _in _danger – he _is _the danger."

"A bit late to be saying that, he's already got a gun pointed at the brothers."

Finch's words were drowned out by gunshots in the earpiece, and Chessie's head jerked up before she raced over to the desk. Finch jerked the earpiece off, worried, and Chessie pulled it from his hands and put it on.

"Sir, if you can hear me, I've got an idea," she said sternly looking at the street camera. "Sir, can you hear me? Zyid?"

* * *

* Tohru Honda, the main female character in _Fruits Basket_. She's a bit of a clutz and shy girl sometimes.

Please Review! What do you think will happen?


	7. Outsmarting a Fox

I still do not own Person of Interest, nor any characters in here except my OC's. This is yet another chapter that I had to go back and do some serious will be a little more different in this chapter, as she begins to have a few... discoveries... about her new surroundings.

Thank you to my reviewers, and again especially to msgemgem!

Thank you again everyone, and I hope that you enjoy this new revised version of the chapter, and also that Chessie is a little more to your liking.

* * *

**20: Fortitude**

John listened as the gunshots rang out. Luckily for him, Chessie's father was drunk and hadn't managed a gunshot once. But he could hear Finch through the earpiece, just not what he was saying.

"Sir, can you hear me?" Chessie's worried voice came in through the earpiece, and he knew that this fight was one that would be won with her help. "Zyid?"

"I'm not sure what that means, but go ahead," He said covering his left ear.

"Get him out onto the streets. If he's drunk, he'll follow you. But be careful, he'll try to get you when your back is turned. Don't let him see the whites of your eyes, he'll be able to shoot you then even if he is drunk off his a-I, I mean, rocker. Stun him if you can, but don't shoot him or he'll be trying to turn the charges around on you for when you're in court. The boys will testify against you, they always back him up, they're his little orcs."

"Alright, got it," he said quickly before readying himself for flight. "Hey, booze-hugger! What do you think you're doing?!"

"Punishing my kids for losing their sister, now fuck off!" the man yelled.

"I can get you near her hiding spot so you can see her if you look for her," Reese offered, and Chessie paled, "That is, _if _she wants to let you see her."

Chessie's father roared with rage and raced towards Reese with a knife. He turned tail and ran, dodging and throwing trash bins behind him as he raced away from the man with a gun in one hand and a knife in the other.

"You're almost there! Turn left and then a hard right and you're right at a police station!" Chessie encouraged, "He's drunk enough and more than mad enough to follow you to hell and back if it means catching me through you!"

"I can't," Reese breathed as he ran, "Wanted-man!"

"So what? They'll arrest my dad! All you have to do is make a quick U-turn and hide inside one of the abandoned buildings! I'll give you instructions on how to get back here through the abandoned districts if you'll just GO!"

Reese hit his speed dial for Fusco.

"Help!" he breathed, "Man-gun-chasing-outside-station!"

He heard Fusco leaving his chair quickly and hung up his phone. He knew where he was now and quickly made a U-turn as he vaulted himself over Chessie's dad, who shot at him a few times with his gun as his back was turned.

"You're under arrest for-!" he heard Fusco begin, but he was shot in the arm and leg by a more than angry and more than drunk man that he now knew why Reese was running. "Ow! Shit! Carter, back me up here!"

"What the-?!" she yelled as the drunk tried to shoot her in the chest before running off. "What the hell was that about?!"

"I think… he was… chasing someone," Fusco rasped. "Hospital?"

"Yes, you dimbo," she said lifting his other arm and helping him limp to her ride. "If I ever get my hands on that bastard, he'll be in jail for life!"

"You're telling me," Fusco breathed, "Something tells me he won't live that long."

"If you're talking about that Vigilante that's been giving me grief, then I would hope that he could get his hands on him as well," she snapped angrily. "Oh, I hate it when things like that happen!"

...

Meanwhile, Reese had been backed into a corner by Chessie's dad.

"Where is she?" he snarled, "You said you knew where Chessie was! Where is she?"

"I said that was if she wanted to see you," he retorted, "She wasn't around, so I figured I'd leave!"

"Go to hell!" he spat, and Reese put up his gun and shot the man in the arm. "OW, SHIT!"

"Self-Defense, bastard, and I've got camera coverage to prove it," Reese said looking up at a street camera before limping to the gun and kicking it out of his reach. He hit the speed dial he had one for Detective Carter.

"What?" she snapped, "I'm taking a colleague to the hospital! What do you want?!"

"A little help," he panted. "I was just shot twice. If I hide the gun and then tell you its location, will you come back and dig it up for me to use as evidence against a child-beater?"

"Yeah, sure," she agreed, "You wouldn't happen to be referring to the one who just shot a cop twice and tried to shoot me, are you?"

"Yes, I saw that," he breathed, "That's why I tried to confront him. I could smell the alcohol on him a mile away, literally. I'm going to wrap it up in my suit, is that okay?"

"No, don't, those things aren't cheap. Use something from one of the garbage cans or something. Oh wait, that's cross contamination. Okay, um… do you have a handkerchief?"

"Ah, use that to pick it up and then go off and hide it," he realized, "Good idea. Call me back when you're in an ally next to your station with blood all in it. I'll lead you to it then. Thank you, Detective Carter."

"Sure," she said hanging up. "Well, the Vigilante shot him in the arm. Unfortunately, he got shot in a similar manner to you, Fusco."

"How?"

"He saw the drunk shoot us and figured he'd step in," she shrugged, "I don't care. He got the gun away from the drunkard, though, so who cares? I'm in on this one, him being a felon or not. I'll catch him another day."

"Yeah, if Snow don't get to him first," Fusco snorted.

"Detectives, where are you?" Mark Snow's voice just came in through their police radio.

"I'm taking Fusco to the hospital since he just got shot twice by a drunk with a gun, as he tried to apprehend the guy," she shot back, "It's not looking too good, Snow."

"Yeah? Any sign that it was John?"

"Not that I saw. The guy had a completely different build. Short, stocky, had a temper and a drinking problem to match it," she described, "Sorry, but no. I'll let you know when I hear anything from him."

"Yes, I recall last time," he said calmly. "I still have to reward you for that job well done, Joss."

"Yeah? Then how about a day off?" she asked, and she could hear him chuckling on the other end. "I have a son and mother in law to spend time with, you know! Unlike some people, I have a life outside my work!"

"Sure, sure, just don't get comfy with the enemy, Carter," Snow sneered before hanging up.

Chessie glared as she heard this particular conversation, and let out a low growl.

"If it's a war Aslan wants, it is a war he shall get," she growled putting the headphones back onto the table. "Next time he messes with our operation, let me know."

Finch blinked at his niece, who seemed to be letting off anger, frustration, and sorrow in large waves. He almost shuddered to think of what she would be like if she were on the force.

* * *

Okay, that reference should have been a little more obvious...

But anyways, I'm having a hard time coming up with Chapter Nine's remake. I want Finch to be more of a part in Chessie's life, dad-gummit, but I can't seem to work that out! I guess I'll have to go back to that when it's not half past eleven at night...

Anyways, please review and let me know what you guys think of this revision!


	8. Reciprocations

Still don't own PoI.

Also, Daisy will be a complete emotional roller coaster ride for a while. I've got a psychological diagnosis/disorder or two in mind, but I'm still looking into them to give her the one that she will fit the best into. Like most child abuse victims, she will bear emotional scars, probably mental and psychological ones as well, and this is where her mood swings come into play.

In all honesty, I have severe split-second mood swings when I was fourteen, and this is where the mentality state that she is in right now. I am not a child abuse victim, but I have asked around when it comes to a few that I know, and most of them told me that they did, indeed, have problems controlling their emotions after they got out of their abusive household. Therefore, it is safe for me to say that I have done some research about something like this, although none of them were of abuse of Chessie's severity.

* * *

**37: Eyes**

It was when John arrived at the penthouse an hour later that she finally calmed down enough and stopped letting of angry vibes that scared Finch. Finch realized that her anger hadn't been at John, but at her father, who she was beginning to show classic signs of hatred towards for all of the abuse that she had lived through. But it was when she saw John that she panicked when she saw the severity of his wounds, and she gasped and raced up to him.

"You're hurt!" she yelled before cringing. _Way to state the obvious, chess! Everybody knows that it's the mark of an idiot to state the obvious!_

"I've had worse, and by the looks of things, you have as well," he gasped. "So, Dr. Tillman?"

"No time," Chessie said quickly realizing that she could finally repay her debt, and he piqued up an eyebrow. "What? Get me a knife and some needle and thread and I can do it no problem."

"As much as I appreciate the offer, I think I'd rather let a professional handle it with the right kind of threads," Reese said slowly, and the light died from her eyes within a millisecond. "I'm not saying you don't know what you're doing, you probably have had practice for more than ten years! I'm just saying I don't want the stitches to come out because the wrong kind of thread or wire was used."

"Okay," she said dejectedly, and he knew he'd struck a nerve. He could now tell by the look in her eyes that she was withdrawing as though she had done something wrong again.

"Although… do you mind staying around? The surgery part can be pretty rough, and I know your Uncle Harold _hates _to watch it. Thing is, I've always had someone with me aside from the doctors whenever I had to get stitches before," he reasoned, and Finch's eyes widened.

"Really? But-but aren't you a Federal Agent?"

"Former CIA, but even we Feds need a helping hand sometimes," he admitted breathlessly, and she blinked and sat down on the penthouse couch next to him. "Thank you."

Her only response was a more astonished blink, and less than twenty minutes later Dr. Tillman was there, having been literally just down the road on her way home.

"Oh, not again!" she moaned, "what – oh! Did I miss something?"

"My normal companion left me," John admitted. "I didn't want her to be worried, and I didn't want to do this alone, for once. For all we know, these could be poisoned with alcohol or something…"

Dr. Tillman wasn't impressed with his excuse, but she instead went to work silently. She could feel John's body beginning to force its way into sleep from exhaustion and blood loss, and she glanced up momentarily to find that Chessie was doing the job of keeping him awake. It wasn't normally what she'd have used, but it worked. But what she didn't like even more was that Chessie was using stories from her past, ones that made John angry enough to stay awake and growl out some dark threats at Chessie's father and brothers.

Just as she finished up John's leg, she moved on to his arm wound. This one had bled more, but to both of their astonishment, Chessie had been squeezing his arm tightly and creating a tourniquet of sorts with her hands. She smiled and began gently easing the bullet out of the wound. It was still near the surface, probably from the blood trying to get out to the same exit. It had entered his bloodstream when he'd gotten on the couch, she realized, and that Chessie's creating a tourniquet just saved his life and so many more by doing so.

"You owe Chessie a big thank you," she said, and the two looked over at her. "Chessie's creating a tourniquet on your arm kept the bullet from getting into your bloodstream and to your heart. She just saved you, John."

"My debt is repaid," Chessie murmured.

"Hardly!" John snorted. "That doesn't include my getting you to your uncle, Cheshire!"

"Oh, so you're saying you want me to stick around some more?" she asked curiously, but also knowing that it was too good to be true.

"… In a roundabout way," he admitted quietly.

"I'm sorry, what?" she asked confused, having heard him but unable to process what he'd said.

"In a roundabout way," he repeated louder. "You're a good runner, and an even better strategist. With some fighting and firing range training, we can get you up to speed in a while. Well, after you get back up to a healthy weight."

"Speaking of which, how much do you weight now, Chessie?" the medic asked.

"Seventy-two pounds," she answered calmly.

"Good girl," she smiled, "Keep that rate of weight gain up until John tells you to stop and you'll be up to par in no time!"

She nodded before looking worriedly at John.

"I've had worse," he said, "One time I had a stomach wound and a leg wound before I helped Doctor Tillman."

"Ooh, I'd love to stick around and hear that story, but I got to head home," she said backing out. "I'll see you two later! Get some sleep, both of you!"

"We will!" they called out in unison, and he glanced up at her before realizing something.

"Sorry," he murmured as he realized he was squeezing her hand until it had turned slightly purple.

"It's okay," she calmly. "I'm used to it. It's worth it. Today, I repay my debts."

"No…'snot…. Sorry," he murmured exhausted.

Finch limped into the room at that moment to find Chessie flexing her hand to restore the blood to it and a certain ex-CIA watching her every move.

"Well, I don't know about the two of you, but I think we need another strategy," he said calmly. "Any ideas? Chessie, you know him best, how do we catch him?"

"Since that one didn't work, we can just leave him to his own devices until he's a target again. He favors the boys over me cause they were always obeying without question while I always wanted a why or a how answered. Besides, he won't be able to get caught by just any old detective, as you saw. I think it'll have to be us, but I'm not sure how just yet. It'll probably take a couple more months to figure it out."

"So just work on our others in the meantime and put him on the back burner," John summed up. "And shoot him when we can with a tranquilizer bullet."

"Okay, I wasn't thinking that last part, but that's a good one. Treat him like the animal he is." Chessie smiled softly. "I love the way your mind works."

Both men blinked at her in amazement before she began laughing so hard that she couldn't breathe. It wasn't too hard to figure out just what she was feeling, they discovered in those moments of their silence during her hysterical laughter. All it took was a quick look into the windows of her soul, her chocolate brown eyes, which had somehow become a little mesmerizing to John's blue ones.

* * *

Chessie, like most of my OC characters, has a sense of duty that she prefers to uphold. This was part of that duty, but also a few other things that none of them figure out yet. Things will all be explained in the end, and even though they seem random now, it will all mesh together in the end as best that I can.

Review please! A big thank you to my reviewers who have sent me PM's to give me constructive critisism! I have tried to update the chapters and pieces that didn't make sense, and going back over it, it didn't make sense to me either. Goes to prove just what Beta's are for! ... Which I have none...


	9. Carter's Assist

**26. Tears**

Chessie's recovery was virtually uneventful for the next couple months. She had no idea what in the world her Uncle and Reese did for work, but she knew they'd tell her if she left them alone about it for long enough. She also knew not to pry with them, and had begun drawing different pictures of things from different video games she'd once played.

It was to their astonishment when she was needed for a case. Reese explained that she was needed to spy on one 'Mark Snow' that was trying to kill him, and with that she heartily agreed. He smirked at the young woman before him who'd grown up and come out of her terrified shell so much while in his wary care. It was his calculating eyeballs that had been able to discern what bothered her most, but it had been Finch who'd discovered what she loved the most.

Finch had even disguised an IQ test as a computer game on a spare laptop that he'd bought for her. She was easily bouncing off the Wi-Fi now, but to what degrees of research she had begun doing they had no idea. She only told them that they had their secrets, and she had hers, and that all she was doing was finishing a research project that she'd begun when she was fourteen. This was true enough since she'd begun looking into ways to kill her father in untraceable manners, and by now she could name every fatal drug known to man. She could also practice in secret inside her bedroom (one of two places that never had a camera on the inside) and even when the two weren't watching her.

But they hadn't wanted her on the case of Mark Snow, but there was also another number that had come up that Reese needed to track. So, with that said, Chessie went off to the NYPD station to talk to Detective Carter, since Snow always seemed to be nearby. When she got there, she looked around and began hunting down her target.

It was by good fortune that nobody in the station recognized her, as she'd hit a miraculous growth spurt over the time of her recovery, and now stood at six feet even and was now sporting the proper feminine curves that hunger had so painstakingly taken from her. She'd discovered that her hormones had completely shut down at age fifteen because of her hunger issues, and so now that she had gotten healthy, she was back up to normal. She warily approached a cop and asked to talk to Detective Carter.

"Sorry, but she's out on a case right now," he said, "Some idiot in a back alley shot at an innocent bystander with brown hair."

Chessie's blood froze as she realized what had happened. Her father was hunting her, but he was killing innocent people that he mistook for her. She shifted nervously and cleared her throat.

"Um… it's about the shooter," she rasped, "I saw him, and-and I think I know why he shot her."

"I'm going to assume this is a girl thing. But just in case, do you want to talk to Detective Fusco?"

"Detective Carter please," Chessie insisted. "It's…also kind another personal reason that I'm here."

"Alright, follow me to her desk, but don't touch anything," he warned, and she nodded.

As she looked around the office, she recognized the doll on Fusco's desk immediately even though she'd never seen it before. It was how they'd been watching Carter, and it was also how they'd be able to keep an eye on her in case things went wrong. But just in case, she'd gone behind their backs and gotten some of the most lethal drugs known to man that were in liquid form and completely untraceable during an autopsy. She'd also done very extensive and thorough research during her time on the run about anything toxic and thorough walkthroughs of autopsies made in each state.

The person of interest she was following was just around the corner, and smirking at her as she looked at him fearfully. She turned around quickly, and jumped when she felt his hand on her shoulder.

"We'll see just how long you last, kid," he sneered quietly into her ear. "Try anything funny, and I'll make sure you never laugh again. Got it?"

She nodded quickly but silently before he stalked back into the room he'd been in before. She needed to know for sure if he was a threat or the one in danger, but she could live with watching him die if it meant that it was why he was the person of interest. Her heightened senses were able to pick up on what he was saying in the office, even though the door had been closed behind him. She'd even had her phone near the door on maximum sound to be able to record what the others were saying just beyond.

"I swear, Carter's getting her information from somewhere," Snow snapped. "Her and Fusco both! They may just be working for John!"

_John? Who's that? _Chessie wondered as she kept listening.

"I know you want to catch your old friend, but leave my Detectives out of this unless you're one hundred percent positive that they are working for him!"

"Look, that doll on Fusco's desk – I swear there's a camera inside! I feel like I'm being watched every minute of every day that I'm near Carter's desk!"

"You're being paranoid, like all the CIA members wind up. Why do you care so much about taking out that John Reese guy?"

_Reese? No! Surely not-it has to be!_ Chessie realized. _It has to be the one who rescued me! He's an ex-CIA, Mark Snow wants to kill him, Uncle Harold calls him 'Mr. Reese' – it all fits! But why? What has he done to deserve the death sentence?_

"Because, you idiot! John Reese is a mass murderer! You see this file? These are all people that he's killed. Granted, some of them would have gotten him medals for, but others of them would have gotten him the chair."

"And just who ordered these people dead, hm?"

"That would be a mutual boss of ours, but not all of them were on orders. These three in particular will interest you – they were partners of his when he killed them. His prints were the only ones found at the crime scene. Also, they were shot point-blank range, like he wanted to make a statement against them or to properly enjoy his victory in their death."

_No! This can't be true! Not the Mr. Reese I know!_ Chessie denied. _He would never do something like that, not unless he had to for self-Defense!_

"Fine, but leave Carter and Fusco out of this!"

"I will if they get out of my way," Snow snarled. "But if they get in my way – they're just as much free game as him."

"And you'll be for me," Chessie murmured nearly inaudibly with tears in her eyes just after stopping the recording on her phone. "I'll do everything in my power to keep him safe if it's the last thing I do."

It was then that Detective Carter decided to show up in a wave of fury.

"Damn him! The bastard got away into the abandoned districts _again!_ I don't-!" she yelled before realizing that Chessie was at her desk.

Chessie looked down in fear, unsure of where to begin. Her father, Mr. Reese, or her thoughts on the CIA, or even to help catch her father and brothers – all were very good options, but she just didn't know where to start.

"Kid," Carter breathed as she sat down at her desk, "What's wrong?"

"My father," Chessie murmured as the Detective took off her gun. "He-I know you're looking for him."

"What? Who?" Carter asked immediately interested. "What was he wearing the last time you saw him?"

"It-it was ragged clothes; we were vagrants," she said quickly, "He-he would-he…"

Carter was silent as she knew that people like Chessie really needed to steel up their nerves in order to come to the station in the first place, and even more so to actually tell what had happened.

"He shot an innocent woman while hunting me," Chessie breathed at last, and Carter's eyes widened in shock. "It was the one you were out trying to follow."

"Oh god," she breathed, "Okay. Okay, what can you tell me about him? Everything is as confidential as I can make it until this goes to court."

"Please, I don't want to testify, that's not a good idea," Chessie pled, "My brothers – both older – they side with him on everything! They'll testify for him even though he points his gun at all three of us!"

She clamped her hands over her mouth, glancing at Fusco, whose head had jerked in their direction at the sound of Chessie's words.

"Maybe somewhere more private?" Carter asked, and Chessie shook her head quickly. "Okay, okay. Is this the first time he'd pointed his gun at you?"

"No," Chessie said pulling out the lists of papers she'd made in the library. "I've been working on a list of all the times dad tried to hurt me or shoot me, as well as ones of my brothers doing the same."

"Okay, it's okay, you're safe here," Carter soothed, "Why don't you start at the beginning?"

"I can't," Chessie rasped, "It was ten years ago, before that even. He's been using physical force to control me my whole life, but he only started using weapons ten years ago after..."

"Just tell me what you can," Carter said putting her hand on Chessie's shoulder, making her flinch. "I know this is scary for you, you're not the first one, and you definitely won't be the last, baby. But I need you to tell me everything you can so we can lock your father away from you for as long as we can."

Chessie took a deep steadying breath before finally beginning her tale of woe, tears running down her face.


	10. Setting her Trap

So the background of Chessie's in this chapter... will be a lie. Please keep in mind that unless it's Chessie talking directly to one of our favorite two vigilante's, any information about her past is most likely a lie. I'll set up a forum to help you guys keep track of the true and false for the next chapter.

Anyhow, enjoy!

* * *

**66. Traps**

Chessie had screened out the part where she'd run away and changed it to look like her father had chased her and her brothers out of the house, and naturally she left out the part where she was now staying with the one who'd rescued her. However, she mentioned that she'd been rescued by a man in a suit, but was completely unable to remember what he looked like aside from that. Her excuse was that she had been hurting too much and that she'd had trouble seeing because her brothers had given her a black eye each.

She did mention that the stranger had taught her how to fight a two on one battle against them before dropping her off at her friend's house to get the medical attention she'd needed. The rescuer and friends all remained anonymous, since she didn't want to implicate anyone or put them in any danger from her father. When asked why, her only reply was that her father had eyes, ears, and foot-soldiers seemingly all over the city and she didn't feel safe anymore.

Carter and Fusco were visibly scowling and seething at her brothers and father, and so was Finch from behind his computer screens. They were angry, and understandably so, since no man, woman, nor child should _ever _have been afraid of their every surrounding for any amount of time, much less for ten whole years.

"What made you think it was your father?" Carter asked gently as Chessie took a ragged and deep breath and wiped her eyes with her hands.

"He-he swore that he'd hunt me if I betrayed him and left them," she rasped, "He swore that if I ever left them for a better life, he'd kill me. The woman – she looked like me from before. Small, petite, no curves – I'd been a vagrant for so long that my body had frozen itself in time almost."

"Malnutrition," Carter said firmly. "It does a lot of damage. You've been staying with your friend for a while then?"

"Yeah, I've been alternating homes for each friend every few days, but nothing too concrete so my dad doesn't find me. They've been trying to teach me self-defense, but I'm more used to running than anything else."

"Do you want to learn self-defense?" Fusco asked, "We'd be more than happy to teach you in our free time if you'd like."

"Fusco!" Carter hissed.

"No, I'd like that, really," Chessie said quickly as her eyes lit up with what the two knew was hope and joy. "But-would we be able to do it somewhere hidden? Somewhere my dad couldn't find?"

"I'll find you anyways, Chessie," Finch murmured. "You know that."

"But if your dad is so smart and all-powerful, how have you been staying hidden with your friends for so long?" Fusco asked confused.

"One of them has a gun and showed me how to use it," she answered honestly. "But-I don't want to, but I will if I have to. I've never shot one before, though. And besides that, once all this is over, I want to go to my Uncle's house – I haven't seen him in a long time."

"What? Why haven't you been going to his house, then?" Snow asked.

"That would be contra-contra-contra… Hm… Counterproductive, that's the word! That would be counterproductive to my purpose," she said calmly. "I have been trying to keep my uncle _safe _from my dad, not put him in harm's way."

"Does your uncle have a name?" Snow asked.

"All I know is that his name starts with an H, that's what we call him," she shrugged until he leaned towards her.

"Tell the truth!" Snow snarled, and she backed off and almost onto Detective Carter.

"Hey, she's _my _witness, now leave her alone," Carter snapped. "In case you've forgotten, it takes a _lot _of guts to come in as a witness, and even more to actually talk about it as much as she did!"

"I did tell the truth," she piped up and found herself rammed against the wall with a gun to her chest.

"Answer me," he snarled, and she blinked.

"That won't work, my dad's done that so much I don't get phased by a gun anymore unless it's by him or my brothers," she said shakily, "They're the ones hurting innocent people, aren't you supposed to go hunt them?"

She barely flinched as he rammed his stun-gun onto her, and she held firm during the electrical current that raced through her. This astonished all of the ones who had seen Snow's purposeful attack, and most especially Harold Finch the billionaire, whose jaw dropped in shock. He _hated _watching violence.

"Nice toy," she said as though almost nothing had happened. On the inside, though, she was in pain, although her body had become so used to the pain that the pain receptors in her brain had begun to shut down at the sight of a gun or stunning device for her.

"You little-!" he snarled.

"Freedom of speech, amendment one of the constitution," Chessie pointed out blankly, thinking it would protect her.

"You little brat!" he yelled before going to strike her.

But before he could, another body got in the way – one Detective Carter. Chessie had cringed backwards as much as she could, and now Snow had rammed his fist against the side of the Detective's head. Five sets of eyes widened at the reaction, and Snow snarled before storming out in a rage. Chessie was visibly shaking, although Reese (who'd shown up behind Finch to watch the end of the show) was able to tell that it was not an act. Chessie looked up at Carter disbelieving of what had just happened.

"Are you okay?" she asked the young woman, who nodded shakily.

"Sam and Joe used to do worse to me," she said matter-of-factly, "But-but-he…"

"I'll be fine, and we can press charges if we wanted to," Carter huffed. "Do you?"

"N-no, he'll counter-charge by saying I didn't tell him the truth, but I did!" Chessie said fearfully as Carter took out a piece of paper and began filling it out. "I'm scared… I don't want to go to jail…"

"Easy, kid, you won't," Fusco said coming over to her. "You did nothing wrong, you were just pointing things out and defending yourself verbally. Technically, he assaulted you inside a police station, two strikes against him. If you're less than eighteen years old…"

"I'm not," Chessie said quietly.

"He used a government issued stun-gun, though," Carter grinned. "We can ram him with that. Leave the charges be for now and wait a little more to see how he reacts, yes? Tell him that you're in training to become a cop, or having a career shadowing month for college."

"They do have a course like that, actually," Chessie said thoughtfully. "I think it's allowed. Isn't it?"

"I'll talk to our boss and see what we can do," Carter smiled. "In the meantime, why don't you go back to your friend's house and put some ice on that painful spot?"

"Got it," she smiled weakly as her system began returning to normal. "I've spent the last few years building up immunity to stunning objects…"

"No kidding," the two detectives muttered as the kid left. "Trouble magnet, that one is, but she'd be a good asset in catching that shooter."

Chessie smirked as she went back to the penthouse. She'd won, but it was a hollow victory that would show more fruits in the long run. She was more than happy with the trap that she'd laid out, albeit she was also badly hurt, both physically and emotionally.

* * *

The information given out in this chapter was a lie, by the way. Well, for the most part.

Please review! I'll set up the forum within a few minutes and post it with the next chapter!


	11. Confrontations

Okay, guys, as promised, I'll give you a link to the forum that will have the true and false information, updated with every update I give of the chapters. here's the link: myforums/RabidOrochimaruOtaku/3856707/

Please enjoy!

* * *

**39: Dreams**

"Hey, guys," she called into the library as she got back. "I've got a few questions!"

"Ask away," Reese said as he laid back in one of the lounge chairs.

"Snow said that you were a criminal, is this true?" she asked him, hurt by the knowledge that she now held.

Reese and Finch both immediately stopped what they were doing and froze. After a few terse moments of silence, Chessie was about to leave from being close to a nervous breakdown, but Reese sighed before putting his coffee down on the table protector.

"Snow says a lot of things," he began, "But I won't deny that I _have _killed people before."

"Have you killed people in cold blood?" she demanded, and he could see the hurt and betrayal in her eyes now.

"Ah, the one in China," he said warily, and she nodded. "Well, she had been told to kill me, and for me to kill her. I didn't necessarily kill her, but I didn't try to rescue her from what happened to her."

"That doesn't explain why he claims you did them," she said crossing her arms. "I took a stun-gun from the bastard for sticking up for you, I want answers!"

Reese froze before crossing to her and pulling back on her shirt to reveal the bleeding location of where she'd been stunned. He and Finch blinked before the former went into the back and retrieved a first-aid kit. He knew she wouldn't take no for an answer, and she _had _taken a CIA level stun-gun for him and had simply walked away. If only she'd known how much of a feat that was, she'd be proud of it a little more.

"CIA stun guns are powerful," he began as he started cleaning the wound. "Even we CIA agents aren't fully able to stand up against them, no matter how immune we are to them. For someone with a full set of no proper training skills in that field, you've surpassed most CIA agents in the pain-tolerance.

"Snow… he knew how to worst get to me. He always has, and always will. He knows my strengths and weaknesses, probably better than I do myself. He is able to tell when someone is close to me and just how close they are just by looking at them, which is probably why he attacked you for information. I'm proud that you didn't cave – not many Federal Agents will stand up against him.

"As for the murders that would have gotten me the chair if I'd been caught…. It was all him framing me, I knew it. That was one reason I went AWOL, was to get away from him and the crimes he was accusing me of, and of the ones that he was forcing on me. He knew when I was on a route or to kill someone on orders from our boss, and he made sure to kill them while I was en route from the job back to Headquarters, the one time I never had an alibi for anything.

"I seem to owe you another large thank you for defending me today. You seem to be a bit of a trouble magnet when I'm concerned – but I think that will go away with time. You kept an emotionless mask very well."

"Thank you," she said calming down gradually at the sound of his velvet voice. She didn't know why, but it seemed to calm her, no matter how angry she was at him, and it was like a tranquilizer. "Uncle Harold, can you pull up the video of those people who were killed? Surely they had videos _somewhere _near them, right?"

"Or," Reese contemplated, "You can ease the truth out of him. Ask him how to best get by in the CIA, how to quickly advance in the law enforcement ranks. If you're lucky you can get some truths out of him."

"He was planning on killing you, and he said that he'd kill anyone and everyone who got in his way," she reported, and the two glanced at each other before Harold sat back down as John finished.

"She makes a point, and you _have _been saying how she's as well trained as anyone from the CIA in all areas except combat and gunmanship," he said, and Reese began pacing angrily, like a caged jungle cat.

"No," he growled angrily, "she's not strong enough, she doesn't have the training, and she most certainly has no idea how to kill a man!"

"Inject some drugs into his genitals and they don't find it in the initial autopsy," she piped up, and the two looked at her. "What? You think I've just been wasting my time reading nonsense on the internet? No, I've been looking up different drugs that leave no trace during an autopsy. I've gotten at least four so far."

"Fine, that part's covered," Reese growled. "But she has no idea about the others!"

"Carter's going to show me how to shoot – even though I can get a basic grasp from watching you and my dad – and also how to fight. If I need more training, I'll come to you and we can work on something when you've got some free time."

"We'll see about this," Reese growled before leaving.

Chessie blinked after him before heading off into the back room where she promptly fell asleep on the sofa, her head leaning backwards and her arms crossed on her stomach.

POI

The next day, Chessie was back in the station with a turtleneck on to cover the gauze over her wound on her neck from Snow's stun-gun. She set out a thing of coffee and made sure that Fusco and Carter knew which one was for Snow. When he picked it up, he glared at her before she smiled sheepishly.

"I thought we'd gotten off to a rocky start," she said quietly as she looked to the floor. "I thought I'd get you this to apologize for my outlandish behavior."

"Smart thinking, I'd have gotten you arrested," Snow snapped, "Keep them coming, or I may just charge you with aggravated assault."

Chessie nodded, but kept her face an emotionless mask as he drank it all gone in a few gulps.

She followed Carter around on a few mundane cases, and had made sure that Finch and Reese knew where she was at all times. This time, she knew that she would win the war. Her battle of wits had begun, and she knew that without a shadow of a doubt that she had to protect her most precious dreams.

* * *

Ooh, a confrontation! She has, at long last, started growing a spine. But now that she has the spine, it it tied to her emotional instability. Said emotional instability will only get worse from here on out until Finch and Reese finally figure out what's wrong with her in the later chapters, probably around 51-60.


	12. Caffeine Issues

After much debate, and in response at long last to two PM's and one review, I have decided to continue this fanfic. Also, I've decided to go through this a few times and screen for errors and personality quirks that may make her less unbeleivable. However, her emotions will still be out of control until our favorite vigilante's manage to calm her down.

I still don't own Person of Interest, and a thank you to my reveiwer for helping me realize that my work is my work and no matter what people say I should finish what I start!

* * *

**78: Drink**

"Here, this will help," Carter smiled as she handed Chessie a cup of coffee. "It will keep you awake long enough to finish all your homework."

"I don't want to."

"Drink it."

"No."

"Chessie, I know how tired you are, and I know how much homework you still have. Drink the goddamn coffee!"

"Don't want to. Against my religion."

"Don't be stupid! I know you haven't gone to church since you were a teen!"

"I still uphold to my morals."

"What morals?"

"… Touché, Carter."

"Chessie, just drink the damn coffee!"

"No."

"Fusco! Back me up!" Carter yelled in exasperation. "Chessie won't drink the coffee!"

"Who's to make her? I don't care if she does or doesn't. Personally, there's probably a reason she refuses to drink coffee, aside from what her former religion drilled into her."

"What are you two, Mormon?!" Carter yelled, and Chessie shot her an offended and deeply hurt look that the Detective knew meant that she'd just struck a very, very strong chord for the brunette.

The office was deadly silent for a few minutes, the pain and sorrow oozing off of Chessie permeating the room and causing any who entered to instantly know to leave her alone. Finally, after ten or twenty minutes, the older female detective decided to try again.

"Chessie, I understand that you want to uphold to your morals, but I'm just trying to help you pass through college, here, sweetheart. Just drink the coffee, I've already bought it, and besides that Fusco and I don't like this kind of coffee, it's too weak."

"Fine," she grumbled, still close to tears.

"Thank you," Carter said smiling.

Chessie almost wanted to spew the contents of the fluid out over her desk, but she forced herself to refrain. She instead opted for foul language.

"This is a heaping load of bull-crap!" she managed through coughing and sputtering. "How the heck do you freaking put up with all this shiz-nip?!"

"It may taste like crap, but it works wonders for you," she countered, "Just drink it, it becomes a necessity for a cop. I'm not letting you out until you finish it."

Chessie glared at her before chugging it all down quickly and coughing as she finished it. Finch and John were more than ready to hit Detective Carter upside the head by the time Chessie reached the penthouse in a stupor.

"I'm back!" she called in and the two glanced at each other before deadpanning as she started quoting all sorts of crazy things from Jeff Dunham's _Controlled Chaos._

"Should we try to sober her up?" Finch asked, and John chuckled. "What? Detective Carter will be at the receiving end of this before the end of the week."

"No way, Finch, this is Comedy Central at its finest," John said shaking his head.

Chessie began singing at that point, starting with _To Life_ from Fiddler on the Roof, and then a few more insane songs that were in Japanese, none of which either of the two recognized at all. When she finally started in English again, it reminded the duo of a hyper monkey on crack with her singing and dancing combination, a task that she'd apparently done a million or so times before. The only words they could make out were the chorus of the song and "Caramelldancing". By the end of it, both men were staring and wondering how in the world they were supposed to calm her down and get her to go to bed.

"I think I'll start training her now," John said staring at her. "And just for fun and revenge, we'll send her back to the station after drinking an entire thing of coffee."

"I wholeheartedly agree," Finch deadpanned as Chessie went on to do the same song in German, Japanese, and then in Chipmunk. "What on earth is she singing?"

"Caramelldancing, I think," Reese said calmly, his blue eyes clouded over with something that Finch couldn't read. "From what I can gather, it's the only word that remains the same in all the languages, or mostly so. It's probably the title, go look it up on YouTube or something, Harold. I'll get her back to normal as best I can."

"Please do," the billionaire deadpanned before retreating to his bedroom.

John looked over her amused before crossing his arms and smirking at her, at which she stopped and stared at him before tackling him to the couch.

"_Nǐ de yǎnjīng hěn piàoliang_," she said in perfect mandarin Chinese, and he simply continued to stare at her as though he were trying to analyze her. "What's to drink?"*

"Hm… I think I've got just the thing," he smirked going to the kitchen and pulling out a bottle of the strongest Vodka that he'd hidden from Finch. "Your Uncle Harold won't like this, but it's all I can think of for you. Here, try it."

She blinked before downing five or six shots worth. He shook his head, knowing it would only get worse before she finally passed out. Before either of them was able to analyze what on earth was going on, she was on her way to the couch with a sly smirk and practically on his lap before he jumped up and manhandled her to the couch.

"Time to start training tomorrow," he said calmly. "And no more coffee or Vodka for you, Chessie, we don't need another case of tonight on our hands, except for when we send you back to Carter. I'll just send a note with you to let her know that your lack of sleep tonight is to blame for your bad attitude, a notion gotten from too much caffeine."

"I likes your… urm… thingy!" she said offhandedly, this time in English, and he had to focus to keep from choking on his own shot of Vodka. "You knows, the-the-the thing that you use against the bad guys and blow them up!"

"I think it's past your bedtime," he said before pushing a pressure point in her neck and causing her to collapse into his arms. "It's for your own good."

* * *

Yeah, Reese had a pervy moment there for a second. I'm sorry, I couldn't resist! Anyhow, review and let me know what you think.

*_Nǐ de yǎnjīng hěn piàoliang_ – Your eyes are beautiful.

PS. The crazy part this time was because she was high on caffeine.


	13. Don Juan Triumphant

So, without further ado, I decided to go and have some more fun with this. Although I won't deny, I've stopped working on this altogether since I'm in chapter fifty-something and have gone back to edit the chapters as much as I can. However I can tell you that I'm still trying to find a reasonable excuse for her mad behavior, which will sometimes get more mellow until she lets all the madness out in one larger explosion.

Yeah... ON WITH THE SHOW!

* * *

**1: Introduction**

Chessie went into the station the next day simply hammered, and quickly downed her own cup of coffee that Carter had gotten for her. The Detective had hidden Mark Snow's cup, and Chessie hid a tiny amount of more undetectable poison that worked better over time. But right as she finished her coffee and handed the CIA agent his, the effects from the previous night's drunken stupor began to catch up to her even more.

"That's the last time," she said putting a hand on her temples. "No more."

"What, coffee?" Carter laughed, "Come on, we've got a domestic violence case that we need to go work, and after that we'll go out to get you some proper fighting training."

"OH, HAPPY DAY ON CRACK!" Chessie yelled excitedly as the caffeine hit her bloodstream.

Finch smirked in amusement as Carter and Fusco deadpanned and realized what they'd done to the ones that Chessie lived with.

.

**(Reese PoV)**

.

"Finch, I can't find our person anywhere," I called in aggravated. "Please tell me Chessie's having more luck than I am."

"Detectives Carter and Fusco now know why not to give Chessie coffee," he said, and I couldn't help but go into a chuckling fit. "I missed something, didn't I?"

"Yes, Finch, you did," I smirked trying not to laugh, "You missed it all. I'm sorry, but Chessie wouldn't calm down until I got her drunk last night. I had to give her a shot of Vodka. She makes on hell of an amusing drunk."

"Good to know my niece can provide entertainment for you," Finch scowled (I could tell by the tone of his voice), "your target is on Prince Street again."

"Thanks," I snickered and figured something else for amusement and just to see what would happen if I did it. "Did she ever tell you anything about being able to speak Mandarin?"

"No," Finch deadpanned, "Why?"

"No reason," I said hanging up quickly. "I'm not exactly sure what you said, Chess, but if I ever _do _find out what it was, you'll be given quite a bit of trouble if it was an insult."

And at that I couldn't help but go into a fit of laughter that I'd been keeping pent up ever since I met the insane young woman. I counted out all the pros and cons of having her on the team. It took up most of my mental power for the time being while I just wasted my muscles away in the car and trying to sit through New York's bad-as-hell traffic.

Pros:

Smart, cunning, physically fit, extremely high pain tolerance, faster runner than I'd ever hope to be when I was her age, hyper, often underestimated, deathly quiet when she wants to be, deadly with drugs, and one hell of a walking entertainment system. Her looks now that she was healthy didn't hurt anything either, although not that I'd ever admit that to her face. And really, someone who was actually attracted to me? I may be mostly immune to feminine charms, but hers are something else and side-blinding entirely, and her connections to the abandoned districts, as well as her ability to get behind enemy lines without a hassle and stir up as much trouble amongst them as she wants is a definite plus.

Cons:

Hyper, low upper body strength, easily readable to some, rash, a walking entertainment system, and her looks could also get her into trouble as well. Finch was her Uncle through her father, but I'm still not sure whether that's a pro or a con. She may be good with the abandoned districts, but the living districts were a maze to her. she was also somewhat cocky, and had a knack for bringing out both the best and the worst in people, depending on how she'd sized you up to start out with.

How astonishing, the cons list is shorter than the pros list. I still don't want her on my team; she's too much of a liability until we get rid of some of the things on the cons list. And does the kid even know how to shoot a gun? But, I won't deny, her motherly side was quite amiable, and very well-versed in comforting others. And her medical background would also go under the pro list, especially since she'd be able to use some emergency first aid once she got the person of interest, or herself, under the radar.

What the hell was I thinking? I had to get back our number, not considering whether or not Chessie was going to be my working partner! Finch asking me that was like me asking him to get married, the prospect was outrageous! Still, my work would put my wife in danger, unless…

Unless she knew how to defend herself and destroy anyone who got in her way; yes, which would most certainly make a good escape route. And it would get me the parenting desire that I've had since I left the CIA. But, where on earth was I going to find a woman with the right criteria? Strong, smart, capable of killing in defense, able to detect a threat from a mile away, and do I need mention that they have to know who my enemies are from work?

The only one who fit the bill right now was Chessie.

I shuddered at the thought – Finch wanted her as my work partner, not marriage partner! Although, she probably would know how to hide better than most others I knew, and she had a fool-proof security system in the form of Finch at her side.

Damn this all to hell!

I pulled up to the location our person was at, and quickly went over to see just where they were – as bad luck turned out, I saw someone stuck in a chair, and another pointing a gun at her. I quickly pulled out my own gun and shot the person wielding the other gun in his arm. As he cried out in pain and dropped the gun, I raced inside and pointed my gun at him.

"Sit," I snarled, and he obeyed wisely. "Who are you?"

"Robert Oriole," he panted. "You're the one who thinks my daughter belongs to you."

"Hm? Ah, you mean Chessie," I realized as I sized up Chessie's father, only now recognizing him.

His hair had been extremely horribly kept before, and his beard was barely even trimmed while he was at it. Now, however, he was well-groomed, and sported a suit and tie, as though he'd recently come into money. His sons were nearby, but they said and did nothing as they watched me at work. They knew not to mess with me from a previous case when I'd easily manhandled the both of them. Their father was a fool, I knew, even though he'd gotten in a couple bullets before.

"Where is she?" he snarled, and I popped the gun into the loaded position and aimed at his legs. "Where is she, you bastard?!"

"Safely away from you," I said darkly, "Now, let's see…. I could let this go to court, but first things will need to come first. Payback for those bullets you gave to my friends."

And with that his larger son leapt forwards and put the gun into his hands. I began firing at the three stooges without mercy, eliciting a scream from our current person of interest. Robert, the father, crumpled to the ground with a bullet in his leg and the two sons each received a bullet in each arm. I sheathed my gun before turning around and beginning to work on destroying her shackles.

"Who are you?" she asked worriedly.

"A friend of an enemy of the man who just tried to shoot you," I said gently. "You are…?"

"Marissa Cato, his niece through his half-brother through his father," she said warily, and I had to hold back a groan.

Another niece, although this one wasn't related to Finch directly by blood, she was still related to Chessie and therefore a liability.

"Your cousin's at my place resting and recovering," I said calmly and looked her in the eyes. "I need you to testify to what you saw, but do not let them know what I look like aside from the fact that I was wearing a suit. They don't much care for me in the police department."

"So, you want us to testify against dad?" the two boys grunted from behind me, and I turned to find that their eyes were now filling with hope. "Will it free us?"

"Yes to both questions, however you'll also be getting some jail time yourselves for aggravated assaults on your sister," I told them, "However, you _could _plead what she did."

"You bastard! I'll kill you if it's the last thing I do!" Robert yelled angrily.

"Oh, I don't think that will happen. You see, I'm training up a coworker to be able to fight and use a gun in self-defense, and something tell me that this coworker will have my back if you ever get out of prison for your crimes," I said smugly just before leaving through the back door as I heard Detective Carter show up through the front.

* * *

So, he gets his revenge. Also, a new character comes to light, although she'll be a very minor character. I like to include minors every so often and give them a purpose every so often.

Please review to let me know what you think!


	14. Pomp and Circumstances

So, I still don't own PoI, although I sometimes wish I did. I figure I'll update with a couple more chapters after this for making you guys wait so dang long.

Thanks for putting up with me and my madness. All will be explained in the fifties chapters! Well, once I can get that far on my editing...

* * *

**69: Annoyance**

"So, Chessie," Carter smiled the next day, "Did you hear?"

"Hear what?" she asked as she set her phone down to have it record any and all audio in the room that Snow liked to hide out in.

"Your father was shot by that vigilante who's been giving me grief," she said, and Chessie's eyes widened. "Yeah, no joke. Get this: he shot to maim, not kill. Your old man tried to shoot an innocent woman, probably mistaking her for you. So far we've got her and your brothers as witnesses that it was self-defense."

"So… dad's getting charged with attempted murder? Or aggravated assault?" she asked, "Which would this go under? And, let's be honest, I hated the man anyways after all the sh-I, I mean, _garbage _he put me through."

"Yes, I managed to find that you were rescued by the man in the suit. Did you see his face?"

"No, but that's just it. I know it was him who rescued me and Marissa – my cousin through my dad's paternal half-brother – but I have no idea what the crap he looks like aside from the fact that he was wearing a suit. One minute I was getting beaten up by my brothers, the next he was carrying me into his SUV. The next thing I know, I'm dumped on a doctor's doorstep and he leaves me. Granted, it was a cruel method, but I think he's covering his tracks. Whoever this guy is, he doesn't want to hurt people I don't think, from what I've heard of you talking about his fighting style."

"Yeah," she said gravely, "But the thing is, he's a vigilante."

"What's a vigilante?" Chessie asked, honestly confused. "You forget I never even got to start high school before I was forced onto the run by my dad."

"A vigilante is like one of the old cowboys, or the Lone Ranger, who takes the law into their own hands with no thought for anything else. I think our Suit-wearing Vigilante knows something that we don't, but I just can't put my finger on it."

"Carter, I need to talk to the kid alone," Snow demanded, and Chessie looked at him as though she were sizing him up. "Now."

The Detective shot Chessie a sorrowful glance before leaving the room, and Chessie saw that the CIA agent shut and locked the door behind her.

"For a tough little brat, you've got no spine. So, you were rescued by a criminal. Did you know that?"

"No, sir," Chessie said honestly. "But I don't understand – he saved me, but why would a criminal save innocent people? I don't understand; what did he do that was wrong? How bad is it that the CIA has to step in? Surely this person can't be _all _bad. I mean, he's – at least I think it's a he – has been rescuing innocent people that he doesn't even know. And yes, I know that he or she rescued my cousin, Marissa Cato. She told me herself."

"Have a look at these photos," he offered, "Since you're job-shadowing Detective Carter, I see a reason to show you just what life as a Detective is like, and more importantly who she found and brought back from the dead."

"I don't understand," Chessie said looking at the photos, "These ones that would have gotten him a medal, they're all from a sniper's gunpoint. But these others, they're from close-range, point blank, and that's not a sniper's working style at all. How does he fit into the crime scenes? And some of these aren't even on American soil, how can they count?"

"His fingerprints were the only ones found," Snow said like it was obvious. "His usual methods or not, he is the one who killed these people."

"Were his car gages checked? What about the mileage? And were the bullets properly examined?"

"I examined them myself to ensure that nobody on our team that he rubbed up to could tamper with the evidence," he said coldly. "Not even our leader has seen them in person."

"Well, if I may, may I take a closer examination? Surely there's a way to verify, I mean, isn't that what Detectives do is look into as many cases as they can to solve it? If I find anything that doesn't fit, I'll know where to go, at least," she said matter-of-factly, but also pleading.

"Absolutely not!" Snow snapped. "You'll tamper with the evidence!"

"I will not! I'm an upholder of the law, and I don't care if that man saved my life or not, if he's a criminal, I'll help put him behind bars! I just want to make sure they have the right guy! For all we know, he could have been framed, right? I mean, isn't it possible that someone figured out his schedule and used it to their advantage? CIA agents make enemies that can do stuff like that, right?"

Snow was about to remark that if she tried again he'd shoot her, but his phone vibrated on the desk and he jerked it up and answered. Chessie eavesdropped on the conversation even though he didn't know that she could easily hear it.

"Mark, we want to take another look at that evidence. Where did you put it?"

"I'll send a Detective's Assistant, one who is job shadowing, to take care of things," he said calmly, even though Chessie could tell by the look on his face that he was getting _extremely _annoyed and aggravated about all of this, "She should be there in a few days."

"Send her tomorrow, I've got parents arguing that maybe we accused the wrong man. He was close to some of the victims, ones he wouldn't have willingly killed. Give the assistant a badge, a _real _Detective's badge and put her on the force for the case. I don't care what strings you pull, this kid has no connection to anything, so put her on the case."

"But-!"

"No buts, Mark! That's a direct order!" the other man snapped before the line went dead.

"Pack your bags and get ready to go to D.C., kid. It looks like my boss wants you on this case, after all, you brat. I'm warning you – try anything funny, tamper with any evidence, and I'll make sure you never see the light of day again."

"Is that a threat, Agent Snow?" Chessie said coolly, "Because two can play at that game. If I find that _you _tampered with evidence, I'll make sure that your boss, and everyone else on your team, knows what you've done, and they'll be witnessing what I found for themselves, just so they won't be able to deny what has happened to the evidence."

"Watch your back," Snow growled, "You wouldn't want to end up like your father and brothers."

"Touché," she said calmly before turning, grabbing her phone, and leaving.

She turned the audio recording off as she passed Detective Carter's desk with a sly grin just as Snow came fuming out of the office they'd been in looking like he'd wanted to destroy something. As soon as the two Detectives that Reese were using as spies heard what Chessie was to do, their eyes widened and Carter thrust her badge at her.

"Be careful," she said in passing, "The CIA is notorious for killing anyone they see as a threat. If you expose an agent, they'll go AWOL and probably try to kill you for it."

"I know, but this is something I have to do. You know why I'm doing this – I can't stand to see someone get pinned for a crime they didn't commit, and I know what it's like to be living in constant fear of death, which is another thing I can't stand watching. If he _is _the real killer, I'll hunt him down and kill him, but if not, I'll expose the real killer for who they are and clear the CIA agent's name. I guess he'd be ex-CIA now."

"Just watch out and keep a vest on, okay?" Carter asked, and Chessie smiled and nodded before hugging the detective. "Go get packed, you'll need to be on the alert."

"I know, I know," she said in slight annoyance. "I must leave this place before I, too, go mad."

* * *

Yes, more quotes. As I said before, I'll give extra special virtual rewards and even disclaimer notes in the beginnings if you can review or PM me to tell me what I quoted over the course of a chapter. And that doesn't just go for this chapter, it goes for all of them.

Anyhow, review to let me know what you guys think please!


	15. Shocking Evidence

Okay, so there's a reason that this is all called fanfiction. Please recall that I haven't seen all of Reese's background, and since I didn't know very much of it, I had to settle for making some stuff up. Since I didn't want to interfere with the show, I just put it all under one big umbrella. Yes, I know, I'm a lazy git.

Anyhow, enjoy!

* * *

**50: Breaking the Rules**

"Director, I think you should see this," Chessie said approaching him a week later.

"Of course, just a minute," he said before turning back to his team. "We'll need another witness. Who remembers John Reese?"

"I'll do it," a male volunteered, one who wasn't connected to Snow. "He trained me. I want to know the truth."

The two CIA agents walked calmly to the large room that Chessie had been working in with a mass of evidence and examination tools. She went over to a table and pointed to a scope, and the leader looked in.

"Whose gun is this from?" he asked her as he saw the match.

"This one," she said handing him a picture of a gun. "The registry number was Alpha Delta ten twenty seven Beta California. I'm not sure whose it was, but that's all I know from the gun. That's the one that the point-blank range ones match. The sniper ones all match this gun, which we've already established is Agent Reese's."

"This is-!" the boss said appalled. "What are the car mileage numbers?"

"Right here," she said pulling out the photograph that had been taken. "I also found one of a different vehicle, one that seemed to have another issue. You see, this photograph-!"

"Has been tampered with," the unnamed trainee supplied. "But-Agent Snow was the only one to have ever touched the evidence! Why would he tamper it?"

"I'm getting to that," Chessie said calmly pulling out a third piece of evidence, "This is actually something I got off of an episode of CSI that I watched, but it's where this man used a fake hand to put someone else's prints at a crime scene. I noticed that all the fingerprint photos had the hand in similar or the same positions, so I thought that would be the case. After all, a true CIA wouldn't leave traces behind, right?"

"Right," the leader said gravely. "I'd call him, but we'll need more evidence, and a warrant. Come, he can't complain if I can go get one. His wife is home, she'll understand. Well done, Detective. I was right in asking for you, I should have never trusted Mark. He always was a power-hungry sometimes-jackass."

Chessie beamed as she followed him out. Within hours they had their search warrant and she was with the two CIA agents on the way to Snow's house. She was more than willing to open the door, and frowned at the search warrant but let them in nonetheless.

"A fake hand? Oh, I know what you're talking about!" she gasped before going back.

"Don't touch it!" Chessie called, "Just lead us to it, please, ma'am!"

"I know," she smiled, "You must be the up and coming Detective that Mark has told me about. He doesn't much care for you, though. He says you have a mouth to match a donkey, in not so nice words."

"I get that a lot," Chessie smirked, "Mostly from my family. So, where's the hand?"

"Right here," she said pointing to a box, "he said it was important and everything that he could find that would keep Agent Reese in prison."

"Do you mind if we take the whole thing?" Chessie asked, "It could be important to the investigation."

"Is something wrong?"

"We're just making sure all the pieces fit, since it was a long time ago and, well, we've got a big of an issue with your husband getting too big for his britches down in the Big Apple," she said calmly, "I'm just making sure that you've got the right man behind the frame for the killer."

"For Agent Reese's sake, I hope that the evidence wasn't tampered. I know my husband, and he was often coming home late on the nights that Agent Reese was out doing his duty to his country, but he never said why he would wash his pistol all the time, and his sleeves and hands. It was…"

"He was trying to get rid of GSR, wasn't he?" Chessie asked, and the wife nodded. "What did he do?"

"He told me after John went AWOL that his plan had finally worked. I'm not sure what he meant, but I can only know that my husband has been up to no good. I'm sorry, that's all I know," she said sorrowfully, and the two CIA agents looked at each other before putting on latex gloves and picking up the box.

"Thank you, Mrs. Snow," Chessie said shaking her hand. "This will really help. For your sake, I hope your husband's not the killer, but… I'm not sure that I can promise that he'll return home for a while."

"I know," she said with her eyes brimming with tears. "I love my husband, but Agent Reese was a good man who wouldn't kill unless he had to. For the sakes of the parents of those who were killed, and the CIA, I hope that you find the killer of the innocent people."

"Thank you, I'll do my best," she said before leaving.

Within twenty minutes, she, the director, and the agent that Reese had trained were all digging through the box and finding evidence that more than proved that one John Reese was so innocent of the crimes that Mark Snow had framed him for, it wasn't even funny and there was absolutely no way that Mark could argue against it.

"Well, I think it's time we call the two men up," the CIA director said. "We're going to bring this before a judge, jury, and a board of directors from within the CIA. Mark Snow will not get away with what he's done. He lied under oath saying that he hadn't tampered with evidence, and to top it off he's been trying to kill an innocent man for more than seven years. Not to mention all he's been up to, and all the people he killed. We've got a mass of charges, and he's not getting away with anything this time."

"The bigger they and their plots are, the harder they fall," Chessie smiled, "right?"

"Yes, and I'm more than happy to put in for an actual badge for you, Detective Chessie. You've saved an innocent man from the electric chair. He'll be happy to hear what you've done for him on the news, and I wouldn't be surprised to be getting mail at NYPD for revealing the truth. Please, stay for the trial if you like."

"I'd love to, but I don't want to get killed by him," she smiled sheepishly.

"Here, a vest," the young officer said giving her a bullet-proof vest.

"I'm already wearing one, but something tells me he'll have a back-up plan," she smiled unbuttoning her top two buttons to reveal her left shoulder, which sported the vest. "Please, I'd like to not be alone during the trial. I hate being so exposed like that."

"We'll stay by you," the two CIA agents promised.

"Will he have to come back to the CIA if he doesn't want to?" she asked worriedly.

"Well, we'll cross that bridge when we get there," the director said warily with a twinkle in his eyes that reminded Chessie of one Albus Dumbledore.

Chessie suddenly had the urge to scare the living daylights out of someone.

* * *

So, now that Chessie has become a bit of a maniac, but things will work out in the end.

For the most part. Please review! I need some ideas on movies that John can actually relate to. For example, John and Chessie dancing like in Beauty and the Beast. Even if it's the most random OOC thing that he can do, lay it on me! I want ideas! Even if it seems like I'm on crack to include it, shoot it to me! I don't care how you wish to give me ideas, I prefer reviews but PM's work nicely as well, and also I will give you credit for your idea.

So far I've got Anastasia's _Once Upon a December _where Chessie is Anya and John is Nicholas/Demitri. Also, I've got a couple of songs done in cameo from a broadway musical called _Avenue Q, _and then there's this idea where they're stuck inside of a giant opera house. Who wants me to have John and Chessie act out the Phantom of the Opera?!


	16. Wildcats

So I still don't own PoI. Who on this site does?

* * *

**16: Questioning**

"Guilty!" the judge declared, and a loud swearing could be heard from one Mark Snow.

"I'll get you for this!" he yelled at Chessie, who cringed and two CIA agents went in front of her. "I'll kill you and Reese if it's the last thing I do! I'll get out of prison, you watch, you little bitch! And when I do, you and Reese are the first on my list! You hear me?! You're gonna pay for this!"

Chessie breathed a sigh of relief as a few cops escorted him away after using a stun-gun on him. She let out the breath that she didn't know she was holding and looked at the team.

"Well, ready to face the paparazzi?" the director asked amused, and she blushed crimson and shook her head. "Don't worry. If it gets too bad, we'll back you up."

"Thank you," she murmured. "You don't have to."

"Hey, you protected one of our own. We take care of each other, and you're an honorary member of my team," he declared putting an arm around her. "Reese would be proud of you, kid. Also, Detective Carter gets Kudos for training you so damn well."

Chessie blushed embarrassed. They left the courtroom only to be mobbed by the news reporters.

"Detective, why did you take this case?" one asked hurriedly.

"I just wanted to make sure that justice was given to the right person," she said calmly, "I needed the training, and something didn't quite look right when I was looking at the photos of the dead bodies, so I figured I'd investigate. I didn't think that I'd actually manage something…"

"What was running through your mind when you found that Mark Snow had tampered with the evidence?"

"I was wondering why and how he could be so cruel to frame one of his own fellow CIA agents, and one on his own team no less!" she said indignantly, "I mean, who does that? Who kills innocent people to bring themselves higher in the work force? That's just so wrong and gross, I couldn't just let that slide once I started and found it out!"

"Where is Agent Reese now?"

"No clue, but wherever he is, I hope he's happy and safe. He just got his freedom back, I'd hate for it to be taken away by an idiot who didn't read or watch the news," she smirked, "I for one know a few people on some police forces who would try to shoot him on sight if they didn't know he was proven innocent."

"Where did you come from? Why on earth would the CIA ask for you?"

"Um, I came from Arkansas, and I think it was coincidence. I'm not really sure, but I was already doing this for a job shadowing."

"So you're in college then? You only had a badge for this case?

"I'd really prefer for this to stay out of my private life," Chessie said shyly, "I'm not really that interesting, I'm just your average young woman who wanted to do the right thing and make sure justice was given where it was deserved."

The crowd was about to ask more questions, but the director stepped in front of her.

"Please, no more questions. I'll be happy to answer any questions you have," he said, and she looked at him gratefully. "Detective, why don't you go back to my office? There's something I'd like to talk to you about."

"Of course, Director," she said bowing her head before dashing and dodging through the crowd that they had no idea how she'd gotten through so quickly.

She couldn't help but panic and become terrified of what would happen to her now that she'd revealed a government scandal for what it truly was. Were they going to kill her? let her go? And what about John, would he be let go? Or would they continue hunting him like a wild animal until he was dead or until he came back to the Company. Would John appreciate what she'd done, or would he get angry for her intervention in his life?

She bit her lip in fear, unsure of where to go from this point with the ones that she cared for so much.

**.**

**(Meanwhile)**

**.**

"Mr. Reese," Finch said staring at the news screen as he had it on pause, "You need to come back to the library."

"Be there in twenty, Finch," John said calmly, "Is Chessie alright?"

"It's not her I'm worried about," he frowned. "Just hurry."

When John got there in fifteen minutes, he looked at the TV confused to find an abashed and very much uncomfortable Chessie. He frowned and sat down as Finch hit play, and the two watched the news reporters interview her. She'd revealed nothing of them, or her life, except for that she was from Arkansas, which was true – just from when she was fourteen.

"Director, what would you say to Agent Reese if he was here now?" one reporter asked.

"John, if you're out there, and knowing you, you are, then you're welcome to stay away from the CIA and go back to your life as a civilian if you want. Granted, I've got some stipulations for that, but I won't force you to come back after all the crap we did to you. You were one of our best agents, you always were and always will be, and we are sincerely sorry for what we've mistaken you for," the director replied, and John's jaw almost dropped.

"They never apologize," he said floored, "Directors never apologize to their men unless what happened was extremely problematic. I missed something, what happened? Am I-was my name cleared somehow?"

"Yes, by one _Detective _Chessie," Finch smiled. "I'm proud of her, we should all be. Detectives Carter and Fusco most certainly will be."

"Wait, wait. Go back. I could have sworn…"

Finch waited patiently as Reese watched in horror, the nerves of the latter's spine becoming so cold that he felt as though he'd never be happy again. Reese shook his head in silence, but both men knew that Chessie had been extremely uncomfortable with all of the questioning from the news reporter. But, that was what she got for questioning the crime-solving abilities of the CIA.

* * *

Okay, I know that Chessie may seem a bit Mary-Sue right now, but all that will change.

Again, any random music/movie relations between music/movie and John's possibility of personality are welcome, even if it seems like it came from doing crack! I will give you credit, I promise! If you don't beleive me, Look at the reviews for my _Legend of Korra_ fanfics and then find a chapter that I took it from. I gave the reveiwers credit, and I will give you the same courtesy.

So I said all that to say this: PLEASE REVIEW!


	17. High and Mighty Praise

**8: Innocence**

"You've done well, Detective Carter," the director praised as he sat down next to Chessie as she was on Skype talking to her favorite detective while waiting for him. "Kudos on a job very well done while working with Miss Chessie. How long have you been training her?"

"Only a few days," she admitted. "She seemed to already have a very good amount of knowledge about the legal system when she came to me. I can't take any credit. What did I miss?"

"John Reese is a free man, he was framed and the real criminal has been put in prison," the director said proudly, "I'd give him a full pardon, but I don't know where he is. Now, I'm assuming you know who Mark Snow is?"

"Snow had been the one framing him all along?" she asked appalled, "God, I feel so stupid. He was in my office for _months _and I should have arrested him!"

"No, you did what you thought was right, it's not your fault," Chessie soothed as she sat Indian style on the chair. "Next time he makes contact will you tell him that we found the one who framed him?"

"We? Kid, you did that all on your own!" the director said clapping her back, and she jumped. "You only needed us as witnesses to make sure that you weren't accused of tampering with evidence! You're quite a jumpy little booger, aren't you?"

"I have to be," she murmured.

"You were abused, weren't you? You're the missing one from before, the one who's been missing for ten years," he realized, "the one who went missing at age fourteen from Conway, Arkansas with her two brothers."

"Guilty," she admitted, "That was why I wanted to go into being either a cop or a bodyguard – so I could make sure things like that never happened again. I could point out the signs of abuse from a mile away, even in the most unexpected of people."

"Well, detective Carter, if you don't mind, I'd like to a have a private talk with your apprentice," the director said. "We'll call you back another time. If you see John Reese again, make sure the NYPD knows that he is innocent."

"I will," she promised, "he actually saved my life a few times. Which has nothing to do with why I didn't arrest him, I promise, he's as easy to lose as a fish without a hook or net."

"Good," the director said before closing the laptop. Chessie immediately tensed in fear before being startled by his laughter. "I won't hurt you, not when you just freed one of my top men. Here, when you see John again, give him this."

"But-!"

"I know that you've got contact with him," he said eyeing her, "You are protective of him. If anyone can find him, you can. Give him this."

Chessie looked down to find a large velvet case being handed to her, one that seemed quite heavy compared to what she was thinking it was for. She looked to find him putting an envelope inside of it as well, and noticed that it was metal that was inside – medals of Honor for things he'd done in the CIA and as pardon. She blinked as she realized that a second, much smaller, case was also being forced into her hands on top of the one for John.

"What…?" she said confused, unsure of whether or not it was for John or for her.

"The small one is yours, don't open it until you're in front of him. There's another note inside for you, and I think you'll find that you could get any job you wanted, and I'll do anything in my power to help you."

"Actually… my brothers and dad were abusive while we were on the run. Would there be a way for my dad to get two life sentences with no chance of parole? I mean, he _did _shoot Detective Fusco twice and Detective Carter in the chest a couple times. She'd have died if she wasn't wearing her vest like I suggested for her to do at all times."

"He used a gun to control you kids? Damn! I'll help, of course. But you've got to get him in court, and please don't hesitate to ask for any other kind of help."

"I'm not sure, but I think my brothers only did it to keep him off their backs like he always was mine. I feel bad for putting them behind bars, but I still know they kind of deserve it…."

"Chessie, what they did was wrong. Oh, and tell John that he's acting like Captain Li Shang," he smirked, and she raised an eyebrow confused but simply nodded anyways.

"Oh!" she said realizing what he was saying with a deep blush. "Um…"

"Give me the box," he said holding out his hand, and she gave it to him. He yanked the note out, writing a quick note on the back (no doubt what he'd just said) and then stuck it back in before snapping it closed and handing it back to her. "There. He can't ignore it now."

"Um… thanks?" she said confused at what to think and feel at that moment.

"What exactly _are _your feelings for John Reese?" he asked in amusement, and she blinked before blushing crimson. "Obviously there's _something _there."

"I-I'm not sure," she said quietly, "I know that I get all nervous around him, but at the same time I want nothing more than to impress him and make him proud. I get this pulling behind my navel, gentle but always there, and for some strange reason, my ribcage tightens up sometimes."

"Well, I think I'll leave him to his own devices," the director smirked as she went across the desk and he put his hands on his desk while raising his eyebrows.

"You look like a Vaudeville villain," she said without thinking, and he simply burst out with laughter.

"I can see why you'd be one that everyone wants to keep around," he said wiping a tear from his eye. "It is painstakingly clear that you're quite comical when you want to be or simply blank out. I don't even _want _to know what you're like hyper."

"I don't even remember whenever I had caffeine," she admitted, "Detective Carter tried that. I don't even remember getting home, but I know I woke up with a serious headache the next morning. When she gave it to me again, I only remembered coming out of it at about two o'clock just before crashing back at home. That was so embarrassing …"

"You ramble when you're nervous," he smirked, "another plus side of you. Go, and don't forget to take at least a few days off and go with highly tinted windows."

"Um… couldn't I just go in a police vehicle?" she asked sheepishly, "You know, since there are a couple more CIA agents down there anyways?"

"A good point," he said standing up. "Agent Gibbons! Get in here!"

"Yes?" he asked, and Chessie recognized the one Reese trained.

"You are to take Detective Chessie home, and while you're away, I want you to go pick up the CIA agents that are still looking for Mr. Reese in New York City."

"Yes, sir!" he saluted happily. "It was an honor working with you, Detective. Shall we take the long way, or the short way?"

"Long, I want to go to Palmyra," she said, "I've always wanted to go sight-seeing there."

"Palmyra? You said you lived in Arkansas!" he accused.

"Yes, when I was fourteen and before I ran away or was forced away from home, however you want to see it. However, I now live in New York, in the same city that John's in. I've seen him a few times, to be honest."

"I sense a story," Gibbons said, and she smiled broadly. "Why don't you tell it on the way?"

"Gladly," she grinned maniacally. "Now, my bags are still all packed, so let's freaking GO!"

The two CIA wondered just how Chessie had managed to remain so care-free and innocent throughout all that her father put her through.


	18. AUTHOR'S NOTE

This update is purely an Author's Note! Please read this if you have any problems or quarrels with the format of this story! If you don't, then please skip this and continue on to the next chapter! Thank you.

Okay, I have been getting a mass of complaints about this fanfic, and I have decided to set a few things straight. I apologize up front of I sound like I'm being a brat, but I have put this in Author's Notes time and time again, only for people to PM me angrily and send me flames about my writing this fanfic! This is a very much repeated problem, and I have had enough of it and am going to address this as an update whether you like it or not!

First off, concerning the whole "conflict of details". I specifically tell you what is truth and what is lies while I am typing up the fanfic, and I specifically spell it out to you on whether or not she's making it up. For example, when she lies about being a cop, Finch fleshes out the lie, and I spell that out to you if you read carefully enough! So please, stop hounding me about stuff like that! If you're confused about details, then read it again and a third time CLOSELY! If you're still confused, PM me about the confusion and ASK QUESTIONS! I will not hesitate to answer them if you are kind about it and will not sound too bratty! If I get multiple PM's with the same question, I will adress it in the pre-chapter Author's note of my next update!

Second, concerning my updating patterns: I know they are now sporadic, and I know that I've neglected this one since Halloween. HOWEVER I did give you somewhat of a warning and a reason, which is also the reason for this new update! Again, I'm tired of all of the flamers, and I owe a very sincere thank you to Evesgreenleaf for helping me keep the drive for this fanfic and its cousin fanfic! When Evesgreenleaf gave me the reviews that I needed, I was considering stopping writing fanfics altogether because of the massive amounts of flaming PM's that I have been receiving as a result of the two Person of Interest fanfics I am writing!

Third, I know my characters may seem insane, but please note that I have taken Psychology as a College Course and passed it with an Eight-five! I KNOW WHAT I AM TALKING ABOUT WHEN IT COMES TO INSANITY CASES! I always, _always _do very thorough research inside my Psychology textbooks on an insanity and their diagnosis before I begin to build a character with it in a fanfic! Please bear in mind that even though my characters and their actions may not always make sense, I do have a long-term goal in mind for their insane behavior! However, I prefer to keep people in suspsense and wondering what the crap is wrong with them up until I finally find a time to drop the bombs on what their diagnosis is!

Four, I know I have been making some Mary-Sues, so I have been trying to create a mass of trouble-makers to counter them! So some of my fanfics will have some mary-sues, and others will have some insane people who have zero control whatso-freaking-ever!

Five, I know I have been moving a few of my fanfics around a lot, so if there is one that you cannot find that you used to enjoy, please feel free go to my profile and find it. I apologize for this inconvenience, but I do respond to your reviews and PM's. Of course, as you can see, the more flames and hatred I receive, the more steam I let off in retaliation.

Six, I again apologize for this update being so harsh, flaming, and outright bitchy, but I felt that it was in order. I am giving this update to the fanfics of mine that have received the most flames and hatred reviews. I mean no offense to anyone in particular, and I apologize for anyone that I have inadvertently offended.

Again, Thank you for your time and for letting me get all of this off of my chest. I have reviewed most of my chapters and updated them before I am sending this out, so the chapters should be less outrageous from here on out.

Sincerest thanks,

RabidOrochimaruOtaku


	19. Chapter 18

Still don't own Person of Interest!

* * *

**6. Break Away**

"Want a plane that loops the loop! Me I want a hula hoop! We can hardly stand the wait, please Christmas don't be late!" Chessie sang in chipmunk on the way home after her companion had mistakenly bought her a cappuccino to keep her awake so she could keep him awake. "That was very good Simon. Very good Theodore. Alvin, you were a little flat, watch it. Alvin?"

"SHUT UP!" Agent Gibbons yelled, and she looked at him in shock. "Good god, I never would have gotten you that thing if I'd known it would have done this! I hate the chipmunks, and this is even worse when I'm trying to stay awake!"

Chessie looked at him with hurt and pain masked behind an emotionless façade, but if anyone else had been in the car, they'd have known that it was there without a shadow of a doubt. She turned to look out the window, tears threatening to spill over. After all, she was just being herself – how was she supposed to know that cappuccinos turned her voice chipmunk? She'd just taken advantage of it while she could to have some fun, and this complete stranger had acted almost as bad as her brothers had.

It was about eight in the morning when they finally arrived in Palmyra, New York. He bade her a quick farewell, and then drove off to a different section of town to get some sleep, telling her to meet him there at two in the afternoon. She sniffed before going into a bathroom and shutting herself in to sob uncontrollably. A few others came in, but she quickly and expertly passed it off as menstrual cramps that no amount of medicine could dull the pain of.

By the time her tears were spent, a few of the women in the area were getting worried, and some of the elderly women who knew that it wasn't menstrual cramps waited behind to see how they could help. It soon became clear that the distressed young woman didn't want any company, and one was tempted to go in and drag her out when woman came up, one that Chessie would have recognized from before she'd run away.

"Chessie?" she called in, and the young mercenary was immediately silent. "Chessie, baby, are you in here?"

The young female quickly maneuvered so that she was sprawled hidden expertly in the top of her stall, much in a manner from the movies. The elder brunette looked in all the stalls before swearing angrily and beating down the first door that she could. But this was a mistake, because a set of cops were soon on the scene and arresting her for vandalism and defacing public property. Chessie quietly lowered herself to the ground before running away, and she ran until she could have sworn that her heart and lungs were about to burst.

She fell to the ground in the middle of a set of trees, a set that she realized was sacred to the religion that she'd once hailed from. It was temporarily closed off to tourists for a lunch break, but she couldn't help but be relaxed by the location. She curled up, and soon fell asleep as another wave of sobs threatened to escape her. By the time she awoke, it was one-thirty, and she had no idea how to get back out.

"Hey, you must be the one they all called in about who ran in crying," a park ranger said approaching just as she curled up tighter. "Come on, what's wrong? How can I help?"

"Can you just-just leave?" she asked offended. "I just want to be alone, that's why I came here."

"Well, that's actually-"

"Why it's called what it is, I know. I used to be from that religion, but not anymore. Not after what my family did to me. That's why I want to be alone – I'm tired of being treated as a runaway slave who doesn't know anything. I just want to be alone so I can actually feel like I know something."

"Well, that's the thing. There's a guy looking for you out front. He says he's from the CIA…."

"Agent Gibbons? I don't care. He hates me. He only brought me here because his boss told him to. If this is where the CIA is headed, count me out! Out of service, out of America – I wouldn't stay around!"

"Kid, come on, please," he pled, and she jerked up with angry tears in her eyes.

"NO! I'm tired of being treated like a slave! What part of that do you people not understand?!" she yelled in pain, and she ran off back out of the woods. She ran straight to the car and locked herself into the backseat, not saying a word to anyone or anything.

Agent Gibbons was silent until they reached the edge of New York City, which was when he asked her for directions. She remained silent, and he stopped at a stop light even when it was yellow and looked back at her worriedly. She was curled up, her eyes were puffy and red, and her breathing was uneven, making him realize that she'd had a silent nervous breakdown in the backseat.

"Hey, um…. I apologize for the way I was behaving earlier, I never should have snapped at you. I should have known it wasn't your fault…" he said awkwardly, and she jerked her head to the right.

He pulled into a parking lot and she got out, storming off. He blinked before realizing what she was doing and got out to follow her, locking the vehicle with his keys' remote behind his back. But the young woman was too quick and knew the layout, and so she was able to quickly and easily escape into the abandoned districts of the city undetected by any cameras since it was in the middle of the night.

He got back in the car and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel before ramming his head against it swearing angrily. He'd lost his charge, one of the main things that Reese had taught him as a newbie when he was just starting. He got back out to track her, and he soon found her beside a wall, looking out over the city with a grief-stricken face.

"Just take me home. Take me straight home or push me off this thing right now," she said, and he blinked at her before sighing.

"Home, kid," he said at last, "Just point the way."

She said nothing the whole rest of the ride to her home, and the young CIA agent wondered if she even knew where she was going. All she knew was that all she wanted was to break away from everything except John and Harold.

* * *

So, yeah. The reason I have her acting like I do is because she keeps all of her negative emotions pent up until it finally explodes out of her like a volcano. Why do I do this to her? It's because that's what I usually do. As they say, it's difficult to write about something that you have no clue about, and easier to write based on what you know well.

Please review!


	20. Chapter 19

Still don't own Person of Interest!

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**32: Night**

Chessie went into the library alone, while the young CIA was going to the lobby in the snack bar for some food. When she got there, Harold looked up and smiled until he saw that she'd been crying for what had seemed like an entire day straight. Her eyes were now blood-shot, the skin around them almost crimson from her crying so much, and the tear streaks on her face were painstakingly obvious. But instead of running to him with her backpack on, she went straight to Reese and hugged him tightly, sobbing onto his chest.

"Hello to you, too," he said calmly, "Thank you for clearing my name. It looks like I owe you another life debt."

"Director wanted me to give you this," she rasped pulling out her backpack and then pulling the two velvet cases out. "He told me to open the smaller one in front of you and that it was for me."

"Screw this," he said putting it onto the table, and his billionaire boss looked up at him in frustration of the foul language. "You're more important. What happened?"

"It's nothing," she whimpered into his suit shirt.

"It's obviously not nothing if you're crying over it. Did Snow shoot you?"

"It's that stupid CIA jerk!" she sobbed, "It's his fault! He knew not to give me anything to do with sugar or caffeine, and that's the first thing he goes and does when he gets tired is forces me to drink some disgusting foamy thing so I could keep him awake!"

"Oh. That most certainly sounds like a recipe for some entertainment for us," John joked. "But surely he found it amusing?"

"No! I started singing, and he yelled at me to shut up! He's being nothing short of an asshole!" she sobbed, and John blinked before putting his hands on her shoulder blades and beginning to rub gently in small circles.

"Well, I'd have never done that, and he's a fool for not seeing what Harold and I do," John said firmly. "If I ever get my hands on him… what's the guy's name?"

"Gibbons," she half-sobbed.

"Leron Gibbons? I trained him," John said slightly taken aback. "I haven't seen that little brat in years. I'll have to get onto him for this…. I trained him to be polite, not to be an asshole. How long had he been awake?"

"I don't know!" she shot back angrily, and he blinked before pulling her back to him and setting her down on the couch. "What the hell?"

"Just relax," he said putting his hands on her shoulders. "I learned this from a friend of mine who was a chiropractor. She knew how to relax anyone like it was nobody's business."

"I'm tempted to go see one," Finch said blinking. "I never thought of doing that."

"Chiropractic services couldn't fix what you've got, Finch," Reese said massaging Chessie's shoulders from behind so that her head lolled backwards like a wayward beach ball. "Just relax, Chess. Good girl. Now, why don't you come tell me what's wrong from the beginning?"

They were stopped by a phone on Chessie's hip ringing. She took one look at it and would have thrown it across the room if John hadn't caught her wrist and looked at it. He narrowed his eyes before answering.

"You'd better have a good reason for making a woman cry, Leron," he said, and Chessie heard an astonished yelp on the other end. "Yes, I know it's you calling. I'm not stupid, you know that. You have five seconds to explain yourself before I go and hunt you down to punch your lights out."

The CIA agent stammered before gathering up his courage and explaining everything that he'd said and done from the beginning since he'd gotten the orders to bring Chessie home. John stalked off as he was beginning to get to the part that he'd left Chessie alone in Palmyra, and Finch limped over to Chessie and sat down to gently put his hand on hers.

"It's alright," he said, "You're not to blame. It was his fault for snapping at you and letting himself get that tired and desperate to stay awake."

"If you need me, I'll be downstairs chewing Leron out," John said darkly as he tossed Chessie's phone directly into her lap.

"Oh, that can only be bad," Finch said pursing his lips. "I hope he doesn't get us kicked out of here or worse."

Chessie let out a soft smile and leaned onto his shoulder. Even though they both knew that neither Harold nor John was a physical-contact style of person, they'd been accommodating for Chessie whenever she was extremely upset like now. They'd quickly learned that physical contact was one of the quickest and most effective ways of calming her down and bringing her closer to them and building more effective bonds of trust and confidence.

"Thanks," she said softly. "I needed that."

Finch only smiled softly as the two began wondering just how badly Leron Gibbons was being chewed out. After a while he began wondering just how Chessie's heart hadn't become as black as the night, considering all that she'd been through.

.

(Back at NYPD)

.

"Fusco, did you hear? Our vigilante's name was cleared," Carter said happily, "By our Chessie! Can you believe it?!"

"She's doing better than we did when we were that new to the force," he laughed. "She's a prodigy, that's for sure. I wonder if our vigilante will take an interest in her…"

"Romantic? Heck no," Carter snorted. "Nah, he'd probably accept her as a coworker though if she really wanted to."

"Is Detective Chessie back yet?" a young male asked, and the two shook their heads. "I've got a few deliveries for her from some parents from across the nation. All I know is to deliver it to her."

"We'll make sure she gets it," Carter promised.

"Scout's honor," Fusco added for good measure. "Her desk is right over there."

The young man looked over to find a desk with a laptop on it in the locked, with a special lock on it that was chain link that covered the whole thing and had a special key lock and a couple of combination codes to get through to unlock. There were files in a few places, but most were neatly stacked either on top or in the drawers. There was no badge since it wasn't official, and she would probably end up working as a private Detective from what the two could gather.

"Okay," he said warily sticking a pile of parcels on her desk. "Can I open the drawers?"

"Sure," Carter said coming over to make sure nothing happened.

He places the parcels in the desk, making sure that nothing would break or anything of the sort. When it was all said and done, there were still more parcels, so he put them under her desk.

"Okay, that's all of it," he smiled, "thanks. That's been sitting there with rush delivery for a few days. I've also got a couple of tubs of mail, but that can wait for when she's here in person."

"Well, she's driving back, so it'll be a couple more days," Fusco said with a slight twinkle in his eyes of amusement.

"Alright. Just give me a call when she is and I'll come bring the rest over," he huffed. "She's got a lot of admirers and such. I swear, she's probably going to have a stalker before the end of the month."

The two Detectives just laughed at him knowing that it would be physically impossible to stalk Chessie since she was as elusive as a black snake in the dark of the night.

* * *

Okay, so fame is beginning to haunt her. Still, she'll be as elusive as ever!

More reviews equals faster and bigger updates!


	21. Chapter 20

Still don't own Person of Interest!

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**56: Danger Ahead**

By the time John was finished chewing out Agent Gibbons, the young former trainee had come to be cowering in his chair. He knew it wasn't every day that his trainer lost his temper, but that when he did, you'd better listen and watch out. When he heard that Chessie had been abused and neglected for most of her life, he paled and realized what he'd done.

"Oh, god," he murmured. "I had no idea…. God, I feel so stupid…"

"You'd better," John snapped. "Come on, we may as well let you up in the library."

The young CIA stared after his former mentor and took in his appearance. He'd heard rumors of a suit-clad vigilante in the big apple, but surely his trainer wasn't the vigilante, was he?

He didn't have time to find out since he was technically here on business. He sighed before following John into the elevator, and then turned away when he pushed the button, not wanting to anger the man more. When they got to the library, they were both surprised to hear _Phantom of the Opera_ playing in perfect Japanese.

"Is that… Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again?" John asked, and Finch nodded.

"She found it on YouTube," Finch said as if it explained everything. "You know how she gets when she's upset."

"I'd rather have this than a crying fit," John admitted as he went back over to the larger of the two black velvet boxes, "Now what the hell did the director want in giving me this?"

The younger CIA shrugged before John opened the box and withdrew the note. He blinked at it before looking in the box and closing it with a sharp snap, wearing a look on his face that Finch had never really seen before – it was smug, annoyed, amused, and pained all at once. He blinked owlishly before turning back to his computer screens.

"What was it?" Gibbons asked curiously.

"What do you think?" John asked sitting down on the couch and putting his lower right leg on top of his left knee. "That was his way of rewarding and apologizing to me, if you catch my drift."

He nodded awkwardly as Reese began sipping his coffee and reading the note. The older ex-CIA growled and glared angrily at the young CIA who had tried reading over his shoulder, causing the young CIA to retreat. When Reese turned the note over, he almost choked on his coffee and set it on the table coughing and sputtering. The younger CIA was laughing at the note and his reaction, while Harold was looking up with mild distaste and amusement.

"What did it say?" he asked curiously, "I'm assuming he wants you back in the CIA."

"He says if I want to stay out of the Company," Reese rasped, "I-I have to get married within the next year!"

Finch blinked at him quizzically and owlishly, not quite believing what he was hearing. After all, he calculated, it could have been John's way of being allowed to get a 'Mrs. Reese' into the mix since he'd wanted to be a dad for some time but couldn't because his work was too dangerous. Unless they'd managed to train a third party member who would be able to protect their child or children they'd have no protection for their child unless Chessie stayed home, _if _Chessie could conceive at all. She hadn't asked for feminine hygiene products yet, so she either hadn't gotten to that stage of hormones, or she went out and bought her own behind their backs.

"Married? You? Hah! That's a good one," Gibbons laughed before a loud gunshot rang from the street below. "What on earth…?"

"Where is she?!" a familiar male voice yelled angrily.

"Snow?"

"Snow," John confirmed for Chessie, who grimaced. "No, you may _not _shoot him."

"John, Chessie," Finch said, "We've got an issue."

"Well, I recommend going out the back," John said to Agent Gibbons. "It won't be pretty if Mark sees you, Leron. Chess and I will head out the back after dark, once he's gone. If he's not gone by then, we'll call the cops."

"I'd like to know how he got away," Finch said pursing his lips.

"I think we'd _all _like to know that," Chessie growled angrily. "Can I _please _go shoot him?"

"No," the three men said in unison, some louder than others.

Chessie wasn't impressed and went off into the back of the library to sulk. Leron shook John's hand and the two spent the next hour catching up on old times and what the other had been doing. John's only tale to tell was that he was a paid bodyguard now, with Finch as his secretary and boss combined, so to speak.

By the time they realized that Snow was in the elevator on the way to the library, it was too late. John raced towards Chessie and put himself in the way between Snow and her. Leron put himself between Snow and Finch, just to be safe, but the ex-CIA agent ignored him and raced to the back to find the other ex-CIA agent.

John had taken three bullets, two in the vest and one in the arm, before he finally figured out Snow's position. Chessie whipped out a bow and arrow and pulled it out against him. He'd shot her twice in her vest before she expertly aimed (and hit) a bull's eye to his shoulder socket, effectively hitting the nerve and nicking it so that he couldn't use the arm without a mass of pain.

With that, Snow withdrew, but not before he shot both of his targets with a bullet laced with a drug that would cause both of their hormones to skyrocket out of control until they got the antidote. Chessie felt no change, but John immediately knew what was wrong. He curled over, aiming his gun at Mark's retreating frame just before clamping down on any and every hormone based reaction his body had, including an adrenaline rush. He forced them away after a few tense seconds where the other two in the library were unsure of whether or not Snow was coming back.

"Whoa," Leron murmured as John carried Chessie (who'd passed out from the estrogen high) over to their section and used her body to cover up his waistline. "What happened?"

"Poisoned bullets," John gasped, "I'm not sure what's wrong, but… I'm heading home. Chessie's unconscious, I'm not risking my only fighting comrade in this ragtag mess. I'll see you guys in a few days or as soon as I recover, whichever comes first."

"Okay," Leron nodded. "Hold on, let me get a sample of blood so we can analyze it."

John reluctantly stayed behind to let him, and the two blood samples (one from each victim of the bullets) was pocketed for further use before the ex-CIA agent went off to his apartment. He knew where to go from here, and what to do. The question now was whether or not Chessie would give in to the poison or fight it tooth and nail. All he knew was that now there was danger ahead.

* * *

One fifth of the way done!

Please review and let me know what you think! Your input is greatly appreciated, so long as it is not flames!


	22. Chapter 21

Still don't own Person of Interest!

* * *

**59. No Way Out**

Chessie was glad that Snow was back. She couldn't have been happier. But what that bastard had done to her – it wasn't right. Something was wrong, all wrong. And that smell in the air – she'd smelled it before, coated in ozone from thunderstorms. It was why thunderstorms always managed to scare the crap out of her, almost literally, and virtually _every _time. She couldn't help but let a whimper out from her throat.

"We're almost there," she heard John say quietly, and now was able to fully feel just _why _the hated smell was in the air.

Oh. Oh, _oh! _This was not good. Those bullets had been laced with poison, or rather a hormone accelerant. And if she'd been hit one as well as John had, that could only mean trouble, which she was keen on avoiding at all costs. She whimpered again, louder this time, and heard the elevator doors open. She was jostled ever so lightly for him to press the number sequence for their penthouse, and the feelings within her body intensified like a fire. In all honesty, she felt like she was being set on fire, and moaned this time.

"Not long now," he said calmly, but she could hear the strain for control in his voice.

He was fighting the poison tooth and nail just like she was, but they wouldn't be able to keep it up for much longer. As the doors went open, she felt him quickly walk to the door and jostle her again to turn the key in and then rush in to slam the door with his foot. She felt him place her on the bed, but she'd have none of his leaving. If she was going to be forced to do this, she wanted it to be done with someone who she trusted, someone she knew wouldn't hurt her willingly, and someone who could protect her in her weakened state. John was the only one who fit the bill.

"Take me," she breathed quietly, and she felt the aroma coming from him spike. "Take me, John."

"I can't," he rasped, closing his icy blue eyes to try to keep control, "I-no. I won't hurt you like that."

"Take me," she begged desperately her heart rate climbing so that she couldn't think straight, "Only you… I trust…."

"I don't want to hurt you," he repeated firmly, but she could tell his resolve was crumbling.

"Hurt me… if you… keep refusing," she moaned as she gripped his hand in pain from the poison racing through her system. "Please… take me… trust you…"

"You trust me enough to let me do this? You trust me enough to let me into your pants, even though your father probably did that, judging by your reactions to my smell?"

Reactions? She shrugged it off as she shifted her weight on the bed as best she could.

"Yes," she breathed, her hips and body aching with longing. "Take me, John. Damn it, John! Just take me to bed, you daft man, before I go insane over here!"

He carefully removed her clothing and then his and Chessie relished the feel of the air on her hot skin.

She felt him gently ease onto the bed, but could literally feel the desire just _oozing _off of him. His breathing, his heartbeat, and of course his heightened hormone levels were all pounding into Chessie's senses, not that she cared any now. Her own were accelerated too, and probably pounding into his senses, even though his weren't heightened like hers had become over the years. She flinched when he first leaned over her, and opened her eyes to look fearfully into his.

"I'll try to be gentle," he whispered, and she closed her eyes and tried to cut her brain off from the rest of her.

…

…

The next morning, Chessie cracked an eye open to find John smiling softly at her. She blinked in alarm before feeling the pounding on the inside of her thighs and realizing what had happened the night before. She gasped as all the memories flooded back, and instinctively curled up tighter.

"Good morning," he murmured, "Did you sleep well?"

"What on earth did Snow put in those bullets?" she gasped. "I feel like I can't breathe!"

John was leaning over her in an instant with his right hand on her back and his left on the lower part of her ribcage. He pondered for a few seconds before removing his left hand to put his arm around her.

"You'll be fine," he assured as he picked her up.

Within minutes, she was in a hot bath, and she sighed with pleasure. It didn't take long for her to fall back asleep, but she was alerted back to the waking world by the sound of a breaking doorknob. The two mercenaries looked at each other before racing back to her room, donning fresh clothes (or in his case, the dirty ones), and pulling out their vests.

"Where are they?" they heard Snow demand.

"This is all I know," they heard the person at the lobby say fearfully. "I still don't know if they're back or not, they're gone for days at a time sometimes!"

Chessie loaded her gun silently, and Reese put a hand on her arm to warn her. They charged out to Snow, who'd thrown the lobby secretary down onto the ground. They'd managed a few more shots into his arms and legs this time, and Chessie landed one near his groin, causing him to yell in alarm and limp out as quickly as he could.

However, he'd shot them twice again, and again the bullets were laced with the hormone accelerant. It wasn't long before the two were looking at each other, having eye sex, and then throwing out the receptionist from the penthouse apartment, metaphorically speaking. They again went back to Chessie's room, this time with her stripping the clothes, and John smirked as she fell backwards onto the bed as she tripped over her own panties.

"Round two?" he smiled gently, and she breathed deeply and shyly before nodding.

"Thank you," she breathed as he climbed onto the bed next to her.

"My pleasure," he whispered into her ear before putting the gun in his hand onto the nightstand. "This time, I won't stop with just one…"

She swallowed fearfully before retorting, "I look forward to it, John, and may the odds be ever in your favor. Even if there really is no other way out of this…"

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It was the only thing I could think of at the time. Sorry to those who wanted to see more fluff before something like this!

PLEASE REVIEW!


	23. Chapter 22

Still don't own Person of Interest!

NOTICE: FROM HERE ON OUT, I WILL NOT UPDATE A FANFIC UNTIL THE MOST RECENT CHAPTER HAS AT LEAST THREE REVIEWS TO ITS TITLE!

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**63: Do Not Disturb**

John relished the moans and rasps of pleasure that he managed to get from Chessie, but nothing gave him more pleasure in those next few days than the sound of his name coming from her mouth as he helped her reach an orgasm. He hoped the feelings were mutual when he let her name come out from his through his own, but he was wary every time afterwards. After all, Chessie was still a fairly decent mess at the moment, even though they were mostly having sex within the confines of their shared bathtub or on a towel that he'd laid out on her bed.

Finally, he made up his mind as he watched Chessie drift off into sleep on the fourth day of their small vacation. He wanted her for his own, with nobody else to stand in his way, not even Finch. He lay down beside her and groaned with pleasure ever so softly.

"Hey, Chessie?" he asked, and she cracked her left eye open.

"Hm?"

"Will-do you want me to stop?"

"I'm going to spontaneously combust one of these days. And you'll have no one but yourself to blame."

"Is this relationship temporary, do you want it to be?" he asked trying to keep his voice calm.

"In all honesty… no, I want us to stay like this forever," she said rolling over to curl up against him. "I love you, and not just for the sex. I love you for the man you are, for the man who nearly died serving his country, for the vigilante who works alongside me without a qualm or trouble, for the man who saved my life, and for the man who trusted me when nobody else would. Why?"

He blinked before pulling her up to him.

"We'll talk about this in the morning, you need your sleep."

"No, I want to talk about this now," she argued sitting up.

He smirked before bringing his mouth to her throat and beginning to suck, which caused Chessie to groan in pleasure and her eyes to droop.

"Must you?" she groaned as he backed off.

"Perhaps," he smiled before laying his head next to hers. "In the morning, Chessie."

They were interrupted just then by a cell phone vibrating from his suit pants pocket. He jerked his head with annoyance and went further under the blankets, smiling as he and Chessie drifted off into oblivion.

…

Finch frowned as both John and Chessie ignored his calls. This wasn't like them, he knew, but they both had had worse from bullet wounds. He almost panicked until he called a last resort number to use for a case, and was glad that Detective Carter picked up.

"I've got an issue or two," he said warily.

"Let me guess, pretty boy won't pick up his phone and neither will wildcat," she said, and he blinked owlishly. "She hasn't come in all week and was _supposed _to be back by now."

"Snow shot her with a poisoned bullet, I fear the worst," he admitted, "but that's not the point. I need your help with something else entirely."

"Another one of those premonition things, huh?" she asked, referring to the time he'd asked her to help when John had been shot in the leg and stomach. "Alright, just tell me where to meet up with you."

…

**Five hours later …**

"John?" Chessie asked, and he was immediately awake. "Should we go back to work now?"

He was silent before reluctantly agreeing. The two dressed after showering (not at the same time) and ate quickly before meeting back up in the living room.

"Well, I'd better go back, Joss will get mad," she smiled sheepishly.

"Harold seems angry as well," he mused looking at his phone. "Twenty missed calls… what _is _that man thinking?"

"Well, we've been gone for what, four days? He's probably worried, and there's probably another case of someone needing our – or your – protection," she reasoned. "Hey, thanks for everything. Your life debts are more than fulfilled."

He blinked before crossing to her and kissing her on the lips. She gasped through her nose, startled, before relaxing into his kiss and then returning it. She could see a flicker behind his icy blue eyes just before he requested entry with his tongue. She relented, and relished the feel of his tongue against hers, and the two muscles were soon intertwining and dancing like it was their own personal masquerade ball, broken only when Chessie was forced to retreat for breath.

"Is that?" she rasped, and he smiled.

"Masquerade," he replied before kissing her on the forehead and leaving.

…

**(John PoV)**

I'm still not sure what came over me over those past few days, but _god _it was worth it!

But I'd be dead if Finch figured out what had happened between the two of us, which was why we'd tone it down and make it look like it was just the once (or twice) because of the poison that Snow had laced the bullets with. We'd use a cover story of taking the four days to work things out between us and figuring out where we wanted to go from there. He couldn't complain; a number hadn't come up until today.

I felt a buzzing in my pocket and knew immediately who it was before I even had to think about it – it was probably Finch, who would be aggravated or annoyed at my vanishing act. I felt almost like the Phantom of the Opera being caught with Christine, but this was going to be _so _much more fun in the end, and without the death and primitive technology.

"Another one?" I asked as I answered on the final ring.

"You'd better have a good reason for not answering before now," he said tartly, "I had to call Joss in for this one!"

"Sorry," I smirked, "we were poisoned, Finch, there's not much we can do about that but rest and try to recover."

"Yes, and I'm assuming that the poison was a hormone accelerant?" he asked, and I knew that we were caught red-handed.

"Actually, yes," I said sheepishly, "But that's not the point, Finch."

"It is when my niece is involved," he countered, "What did you do?"

"I plead the fifth," I said warily looking around and avoiding the cameras. "Look, we can talk about this later, Chessie and I wanted to anyways. What's wrong?"

"You slept with my niece," he accused.

"The poison didn't exactly leave any other option," I countered, "We couldn't control it for more than five minutes after getting back into the apartment, which we were lucky we lasted that long considering the strength of it. He shot us again, twice, after forcing the janitor, receptionist, whatever you want to call her – to let us in."

"So then it was twice," he accused, and I frowned.

"Ask Chessie, not me, you know I won't say anything more," I snapped, harsher than I'd meant to. "She asked me to, blame her."

"I blame _you_," he snapped, "it was your fault she was in danger in the first place."

I shook my head, knowing that he wasn't going to be persuaded to do anything more onto my side of the fence in this argument. Whatever happened to the "Do Not Disturb" signs, and why weren't there those signs on cell phone numbers sometimes in life?

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Heehee! I just couldn't resist!

Anyhow, more reviews equals faster updates! Three reviews equals an update being in order, and I won't update until then. In other words: review if you want this continued!


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